


Master's Voice

by katbear



Series: Master's Voice [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-25
Updated: 2009-05-25
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:57:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 147,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katbear/pseuds/katbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A voice on the radio captures a lonely newcomer in town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Master's Voice was published in twenty-eight chapters on MA and in my LJ during May and June 2009. The graphics that were part of the original posting may be viewed on my LJ starting with the cover at http://katbear.livejournal.com/22573.html . This is the baseline story in the Master's Voice series. Since it is so long, it is posted here as multiple parts with multiple chapters per part rather than in the individual twenty-eight chapters.
> 
> Archive: MA  
> Category: AR, first time, romantic adventure  
> Rating: Mostly PG13, but some NC17 elements so overall rating NC17  
> Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi as alternate incarnations  
> Feedback: Appreciated.
> 
> Thanks: To the beta readers who made this a better story (Bonny Magret, Merry Amelie and Obi-Ki). All mistakes are my own since I can't resist tweaking. And thanks to Sue_Chose_This for the lovely manips for chapter nineteen and the end piece.
> 
> Spoilers: None, alternate reality set in 21st century Earth in fictional part of the western U.S.
> 
> Notes:  
> 1\. The primary setting is not based on any actual specific real location or persons but is a composite of possible geography, town features, etc. The state university has been transplanted and adapted.  
> 2\. The federal agencies mentioned are real but liberties have been taken with some policies, practices and job duties.  
> 3\. All references and Tai Chi notes and links at end of story
> 
> Copyright 2009 for the author and artists. The story herein is of an adult nature involving men having relationships with other men, and no copy of this story will be given to anyone under the age of eighteen. All recognizable characters are the property of others and are being used with no intent to cause harm to George Lucas or the actors who portrayed the characters on the screen, or any other owners not mentioned. No profit is involved.

 

 

 

  
Part One - chapters one through ten

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter One §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Hey, Kennan! You done with that Harley Super Glide?" A thin tow-headed man leaned over the bottom half of the dutch door, his strident voice echoing off the industrial walls and flooring of the repair bay.

A young man in dirty grey coveralls with cutoff sleeves straightened from where he had been bending over a black motorcycle. "Just finishing now, Mr. Jones," he called out, his soft Knob Hill twang audible even in those few respectful words. He wiped his hands on a rag as he spoke.

The door opened and the store owner came into the brightly lit maintenance bay, followed closely by a tall, heavily built man in faded jeans, his grizzled crew cut covered by a Harley-Davidson baseball cap.

As the two stopped by the big motorcycle, the mechanic offered an electronic tablet and a small box. "All set, sir. She runs nicely and I think you'll be pleased with the improvements. I covered everything you asked for and these are the parts I replaced," he nodded toward the box. "This is the list, so let's see if we can't get you out of here quickly."

The bike's owner looked sourly at the young man. He placed a possessive hand on the bike's seat as he glared at Jones. "You let this city kid work on my bike?" he demanded.

Ben bit the inside of his cheek to remind himself to keep his temper. He couldn't help his age or that damned Boston accent that didn't seem to sit well with a lot of the people in this western town, but he liked working here and needed the job too badly to say anything.

"Now, Mike, you know I don't let just anybody work on the Harleys, but he did a nice job on those foreign bikes the first month he was here so I've been letting him move up the last couple of weeks while Bobby's been out sick so much. And, he's got a Harley of his own," the store owner said soothingly. "So why don't you at least check it out?"

Mike looked the mechanic over, from the engineer boots on his feet, up the compact body, across the smear of grease above the blue-grey eyes, to the unruly russet hair. "What ya got?" he finally grunted.

Patiently, Ben went down the list on the service order, explaining each of the repairs he had made. Mike scrutinized every old part, ran his hands over the bike, then fired up the engine, listening closely as it idled and revved several times. Finally he turned it off and sat silently astride.

"Okay, maybe I was wrong," Mike said with a shake of his head. "She does sound sweet."

The shop owner nodded, pleased with the assessment. He glanced over at his mechanic, noting the way the young man had his head cocked slightly, the corner of his lower lip tucked in, looking down at the concrete. "Alright, Kennan, I know that look. You got something to say, then say it."

"Well..." Ben hesitated. "I know you didn't ask, but there are a few things I think you should get looked at on your next maintenance visit."

"So spit it out, already," Mike said, skepticism returning to his voice.

"Two things, really. One is the brakes; they didn't feel right so I checked them out. They are not wearing evenly and it looks like they have been badly knocked out of alignment. It's not an immediate risk, but I'd recommend changing out the pads within the next three to four hundred miles. The other thing I noticed is that you have some deep road chips along the underside of the frame that should be cleaned up, especially if you'll be heading into the mountains where they still have a lot of road salt laid down."

"Didn't 'feel' right? What the hell does that mean? I had those brakes fixed less'n a year ago before I went on my last long road trip," Mike snorted in disbelief.

Ben pursed his lips and looked at the store owner for guidance.

"You know, it's the darndest thing," Jones said slowly. "I've noticed the kid has a real gift with the bikes; he's been right every time so far when he says he feels somethin's not right. You know I don't churn repairs like some of those assholes out there, so you might want to listen to him."

"Alright, show me," Mike challenged.

Once again Ben put his feelings aside as he pointed out the problems he had found.

"Damn," Mike muttered as he fingered the clearly uneven edges of a brake pad. "I must have screwed up the alignment when I took that spill last October. We're supposed to be heading out on the road Monday, but this isn't good." He looked up. "Any chance of getting this stuff fixed before then?"

"Well, it's only the end of April and still the slow season so we're closed tomorrow, but if Kennan is willing to stay tonight I'll keep the shop open for you. It's five-thirty now, though, and after six I've got to charge time and half because he'll have gone past his hours for the week," said Jones.

"How about it?" Mike asked as both men turned to look at the young mechanic.

"I don't mind," Ben shrugged, keeping his delight at the chance for extra pay behind a nonchalant face. "Brakes and cleaning up the worst chips will probably take a couple of hours."

"Alright, let's do it," Mike said. "I'll be back around seven to see how it's going."

Ben nodded as the two men walked back through the service bay to the sales shop in the front half of the building. He hummed a cheerful tune as he opened a tool box and set to work.

**************** ***************

The crisp chill of the early spring evening made Ben glad for the liner in his heavy leather jacket as he slowed down to turn off the paved road onto the long gravel drive. This far from the southern edge of town there was only the light from the full moon and the bike's single headlamp to show the path through the trees as he carefully wended his way up to the big old house. He absently noted that the carport off to the side of the house was empty; the two young women who rented the upstairs rooms with the shared bath were probably out with their current boyfriends.

Ben swung the heavy bike around in front of the garage. Pulling off his helmet, he sucked in a lungful of the clean air. He sat quietly as the distinctive rumble from the hot metal between his thighs soothed him. The town spread out before him. On its northern edge, the distant light of the tower on the sprawling university campus was a steady beacon. To the east and south, the lights gradually petered out as buildings and tracts of houses eventually gave way to large lots like the forty acres where he sat and then to ranches and farms. Dense blackness to the west marked the immense national forest that stretched up into the snow-covered mountains. Ben took another deep breath, savoring the moment a bit longer before turning away to put the motorcycle inside the garage.

A deep 'whuff' greeted Ben as he swung the garage door closed. The pair of female Rottweilers, Dexy and Delilah, sniffed his outstretched hand, then headed back into the laundry room to the warmth of their beds next to the entrance to the big kitchen. Ben carefully folded his gauntlets, leather chaps and jacket over the seat of his bike. He looked around the garage, still pleased at the cleanup job and new shelves which had earned him garage privileges in addition to the kitchen and laundry privileges all the boarders enjoyed. From his left pannier he unloaded groceries, putting the milk, juice, fruit, cold cuts and bread onto his designated shelf in the old refrigerator. Four library books and a two liter bottle of soda came out of the other pannier, then a six pack of beer.

"I'm home, Mrs. Brandon," Ben called out. The smell of baking bread filled the air. "I brought a bottle of that local root beer you like; I'll set it in the reefer so it'll get cold. I've also got some extra rent money this week from working overtime."

The trim gray-haired woman turned from the sink and wiped her hands. "Good evening, Ben. That was right thoughtful of you. Hang on just a moment and I'll get the account book down." She hung the small towel on a hook under a cupboard. "There's some leftover stew if you want it; save me the trouble of having to put it up." She reached into a cupboard and took down a black lockbox.

Ben smiled at the transparent ploy as he put the soda into the white side-by-side, keeping a wary eye on the ragged-eared ginger tom who glared down at him from atop the appliance.

"Don't pay any mind to Tiger. He's just being territorial tonight." The woman put the box on the heavy wooden table next to her ever-present bag of knitting, then sat down. She pulled out a worn ledger book and pen.

Ben counted out a small stack of bills and watched as his landlady entered the amount on his account, then put the cash away in a small bag.

"You're starting to make a right fair dent in the bill, Ben Kennan," she remarked as she closed the ledger. She tapped a finger on the cover, then took a deep breath. "You know, I've been thinking a bit." She paused.

"I hope you've had good thoughts." Ben smiled to ease her apparent embarrassment.

The woman looked down at the ledger. "You've been a big help around the place," she continued. "And I've been thinking maybe we don't really need a security deposit, or maybe we could lower the rent a bit..."

"We'll have none of that, Jane Brandon," Ben said firmly. He gathered the book and bag and placed it in the lockbox, closing the lid with a decisive click. "I pay my debts." He waited until Jane looked up at him before quietly continuing. "I know a scruffy, unemployed young man on a motorcycle wasn't really what you wanted for a boarder for your best room, but you took me in when I was in a hole and have been taking care of me ever since."

"You put up the title to that motorcycle as security," she protested.

Ben leaned in with a disarming smile. "Yes, ma'am, but we both know I can get that piece of paper replaced any time." He gently touched her hand, then straightened. "You're stuck with me until I pay back every penny for the security deposit plus the back rent." He sat down at the table. "Besides, I like it here, and I like helping out."

"We'll see how much you like helping out when the ground softens up enough to get the garden ready for planting," she said gruffly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She put the lockbox away and ladled stew into a bowl. "Now you stay right there and eat. Mind you clean up when you're done."

"Yes, ma'am," Ben replied. He grinned as he took an appreciative spoonful of the hearty offering.

The upper oven timer beeped. Jane pulled out four loaves of bread and set them to cool.

"Smells good. What kind did you make tonight?"

"Cinnamon raisin for after church tomorrow. Joe Silver is bringing seeds in return for the bread. Tom Lorton is bringing eggs and fresh chickens for those booties and sweaters I knitted for his new grandson."

Ben shook his head. He was still amazed at the remarkable underground economy his landlady had introduced him to after she decided to take him under her wing. She had also shown him where to find the best bargains and hidden values at the various thrift stores, enabling him to make some much-needed additions to his sparse and well-worn wardrobe, including more of the black t-shirts and jeans he favored. He had started picking up odd jobs for some of her friends, leading to the recommendation that had gotten him the job at the motorcycle shop in mid-March.

Jane sat down at the table and began sorting through skeins of yarn. "If you're interested, the church is throwing a social for singles tomorrow afternoon. Nothing fancy, but there will be some nice girls there."

"Thanks, but I promised Mr. Felton I'd come over and see if I can fix his tractor."

"Ed or Tim?"

"Ed Felton."

"Well, that's okay then. Ed Felton will pay you fair and square, but his brother Tim is sharp with a dollar. Keep an eye out for Susie, Ed's wife. She's good with a needle but can't cook at all, so don't let her try to feed you." She set aside two skeins of brown and gold wool. "They have a right pretty daughter, Janice. She'll probably be home tomorrow."

"Thanks for the warning about the food." Ben scraped up the last spoonful of stew. "I appreciate the other thought, too, but I don't think I'm ready to settle down right now."

"I suppose the girls will just have to do without you then." Jane paused, giving her boarder a shrewd look. "Sometimes I think perhaps you are already married to that motorcycle anyway." She smiled to herself as she rose.

"Myrna and I have certainly been through a lot together." Ben looked down to hide his sudden uneasiness. He stood abruptly and took his dishes to the sink to wash up. "I got some new books from the library this morning on my way to work, so I think I'll go down to my room and read tonight."

"Alright. I'll take a last look out to the barn and then lock up. The girls can let themselves in whenever they get back."

"You still have the three dogs?" Ben asked as he put away the clean dishes.

"Those three for another week and Geena Smith's two cats. She's going down to Texas for a bit to visit her sister's family." Jane put on a heavy coat. "Good night."

"Good night, ma'am." Ben watched her head out the back door with the Rottweilers toward the cavernous barn, a large part of which had been converted several years ago to board pet animals. It was another extra bit of cash to supplement his landlady's pension.

Ben fetched a bottle of beer from the garage, then gathered his books and went down the long hallway. He paused to look into the family room where Jane did most of her evening knitting while she listened to the radio or watched television. Two black-ribboned pictures on the fireplace mantel kept guard over her domain. The proud young Marine sergeant on the left shared the blue eyes and firm chin of his mother and the same wickedly joyful smile as the tall broad-shouldered, brown-haired man in the other picture. Jane had never volunteered any information about what had happened to her two men, and Ben didn't pry. He shook his head and went down the stairs.

Switching on the light revealed a large comfortable room. The desk, chair, bureau, nightstand and outsized wooden bed frame were old but of solid wood and well-maintained. Ben tossed one book onto the large bed and placed the other three on the desk. He put the beer down on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots and setting them aside. He stacked up three pillows against the headboard and settled back into the pillows, sitting with knees bent as he took a long pull at the beer.

Ben grimaced as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His forearms rested on his knees, the beer dangling from one hand.

"Well, Ben my lad, that was not a happy moment," he said aloud to the empty room. "I wish I could figure out how she really feels. I know she's a regular at church, but she does seem to have an awfully broad assortment of friends. Sometimes it seems as if she knows what I'm really about, but she never comes out and says anything one way or the other." He sighed gloomily. "I'm starting to feel at home here, but I don't want to screw this chance up and get thrown out on my ass. It's no fun trying to start a new life again."

This place did feel more like home than the house he had lived in for so many years. Youngest of three, he had often felt like a mistake by his Catholic parents (once he grew old enough to understand such matters). He had never lacked for material things; his father was a very well-to-do corporate lawyer with a social place to keep up, so there had always been nice clothes, expensive toys and private schools. The oldest, Lars Kennan the Fourth, was the apple of their father's eye and was being groomed to follow in the paternal footsteps. His sister was doted on by their mother, but Maureen had long since decided she would play their parents' game to her own advantage and could wheedle almost anything she wanted out of them. She despised Lars for his selfish, materialistic focus, but Ben and Maureen had always got on very well. Ben had learned early to keep a low profile and look out for himself.

The first truly major blowup had come on his eighteenth birthday. He had proudly come home from the motorcycle store with the new two-wheeler he had worked and saved for over three years to buy. His father was not at all happy. They had argued at length about the appropriateness and safety of such a lower-class vehicle, with his father also making pointed remarks about the type of lower-class people who rode them. Ben had used only money he had personally earned at summer and odd jobs, so legally there hadn't been a damned thing his father could do about it. Ben had also busted his tail keeping his grades up. He had already been accepted at three of the colleges his parents had insisted he apply to; in the end the old man had grudgingly given in and decided to ignore the issue. Their relationship was distinctly more strained after that, however.

The final straw came a few years later. Ben had just gotten home after finishing the last of his exams for the sophomore year of his engineering program. He had been invited to a friend's house and alcohol had flowed freely, seriously dampening his normal discretion. They had been caught with Ben's cock up another boy's ass, indulging in a proclivity to which Ben had been introduced at the private boarding school his parents had required him to attend. His father was outraged and disgusted (or so he said); a tremendous flaming row followed. They had yelled at each other until his father had backhanded him across the mouth and told him to get out and never come back. His mother was crying, while his older brother, home from law school, smirked and tossed out snide comments.

Ben had stormed up to his room and started throwing things into a duffel bag. His sister was the only one who came to him. She managed to calm him down enough to think about what he needed to do next. She had insisted he take the deluxe backpack, sleeping bag and camping gear left over from one of her passing hobbies. Maureen also pressed almost three hundred dollars in cash onto him. Ben didn't ask where she had gotten it, but gratefully accepted her gifts and counsel. With a cooler head, he'd ensured that he had the title to his bike, his passport, a good assortment of sturdy clothes, and a few of his favorite books and pictures. Left behind were the cell phone, credit cards, computer and any other luxuries that his parents had paid for. By the time he and Maureen finished a last long talk, the sun was coming up. He hugged her and said goodbye.

After a stop at the bank to close his accounts, Ben mounted Myrna, as he had affectionately named his bike, and hit the road. He wandered aimlessly for many months, stopping whenever the fancy took him. Occasionally he took on an odd job or two to stretch his money so he could feed himself and Myrna. Every few weeks he would stop at a public library and send an email to Maureen to let her know he was alright. He still didn't understand what impulse had driven him in this direction; on the face of it, going north into the tail-end of winter didn't seem to make sense. Eventually his money and anger ran out on a cold snowy day in this Wyoming town. A bed at the local YMCA made a big hole in what little cash he had left; a notice on the bulletin board had led him to Jane Brandon. Exerting every ounce of charm he had and what Maureen had often assured him was a devastating grin, he had managed to convince the skeptical woman to take a chance on him.

Ben opened his eyes and took another swallow of beer, then set the bottle on the nightstand.

"I think that I had better be careful until I get a better idea of how the land lies," he mused. "Wouldn't be the first time." Ben shrugged and glanced at the radio beside his beer. Some music would be pisser, he thought.

The high-end boombox was another item Jane had helped him find at one of the thrift shops. The handle was missing and the exterior was scratched and dented, but it played perfectly after a minor bit of tinkering. He had run an antenna wire up to the roof and was able to pull in good reception on the multi-band radio. Ben fiddled with the dial a moment, finally settling for a station sponsored by the public radio town-university collaboration.

For the next hour Ben read his book, taking an occasional sip of beer, the radio a pleasant noise in the background. Eventually he set the book aside and stretched, a long, slow, joint-popping release. Hands behind his head, Ben settled back into his pillows, eyes half-closed. For several minutes, he drowsed lazily.

A familiar tune caught Ben's attention. He smiled at the old melody that brought fond memories of his fifteenth summer when Maureen had been dating a would-be folk singer who often serenaded the family out in the back yard. His smile turned to a pensive melancholy as he thought about his past and what he had lost, and he drifted off into a self-pitying haze. He knew his mother had tried to love him in her own vague way, and he had had many acquaintances at school. Most of all, though, he regretted being cut off from Maureen. Far more a close friend than a big sister to him, he missed the late-night talks, the shoulder to cry on, the long walks around town and the rambling drives on back roads. With a pang he realized that she would be graduating from college in less than two months, and it was highly unlikely that he would be able to find enough money to allow him to attend the ceremony. He counted in his head; twenty-three emails and the four times he had managed to catch her on her cell phone was all the contact that he had had since he left. And, of course, she had been there for him that miserable night at the end of October when he had turned 21. He had celebrated his solitary birthday by buying a case of beer and taking it back to the cheap motel near the beach in Florida where he had splurged for a tiny room; Maureen had called him back after he phoned her, and she had spent almost two hours on the phone consoling him as he slowly got drunker and sadder. His throat tightened and he squeezed his eyes closed to keep the pain inside.

"That was the Dublin Boys to start the show. For the next two hours we'll be playing a collection of folk songs from Ireland and Scotland, featuring songs that our fans have requested the last few months. We'd like to thank you for listening tonight and for supporting the United Public Access program, bringing town and university together for better communication..."

Ben blinked as the mellow brogue penetrated his funk.  He turned sideways, propping himself up on an elbow.  He looked at the radio, his head cocked, mouth slightly open.  He waited through two songs, unheeding, as he tried to figure out what had piqued his curiosity.  When the DJ's voice came back on, suddenly Ben's consciousness lurched and he was flung back five years; he was sitting at a desk, casting furtive glances toward the front of the classroom as another Irishman's voice filled his head.

Neal Delaney. Dr. Neal Delaney, exchange lecturer in literature while his counterpart took his place for the semester at their sister school in Ireland.

Neal Delaney.  Broad shoulders and tapered waist.  Black hair and blue eyes.  Sideburns and closely trimmed Van Dyke.  Corduroy jacket with leather elbow patches and a pipe peeking from the pocket.

Neal Delaney.  Passionate lecturer.  Very Irish.  Very male.  Proper gentleman when the headmaster was around.  A bit of a charming rogue when he wasn't.

Neal Delaney.  A hint of ambiguity that fired the imagination of a sixteen-year-old boy caught between the throes of teenage angst and the agony of trying to come to terms with his less-than-mainstream sexuality.

Ben shuddered and shook his head as his body reacted to the heat of that past emotion.  For a magical three months he had harbored romantic fantasies, written incredibly bad poetry and had frequent wet dreams centered around the object of his clandestine affections.  He had held his secret close within his breast. It was almost a year later before he could bring himself to drop more than a bare hint to Maureen about his obsession.

It had been a heady time indeed. The focus of the visitor's courses had been influences on Irish literature over the last two centuries. In addition to the spirited discussions of the Irish nationalist movement, Ben was particularly fascinated by the cultural and social threads. Both in class and at the weekly gatherings when Neal Delaney opened his home to students, one of the themes that seemed to recur with regularity was the long repression of homosexuality and its slow emergence into legal acceptance. Great patriots such as Roger Casement and Padriac Pearse, while they had not spoken publicly of such things, had kept diaries or produced writings which showed their leanings. Ben still had a special fondness for Pearse's poetry after that night Delaney read to them verses like "Little Lad of the Tricks," his dulcet tones caressing words such as "There is a fragrance in your kiss that I have not yet found in the kisses of women."

It was not just an exciting and romantic time, however. Ben's thoughts on his own sexual leanings crystallized during that semester as he came to understand the vague yearnings he had been having. He finally had a name for his feelings and an image of how he wanted to fulfill his longings: a fantasy fuelled by the Irishman's ready smile and freely bestowed touches. On the other hand, he was sobered by the oft-repeated tales of executions, imprisonment and harassment. Ben's natural reticence about displaying such intimate feelings was further reinforced by the sometimes crude and blatantly hateful comments of many of his classmates, making him very cautious about pursuing his inclinations.

The culmination of the silent, one-sided love affair came in the last few weeks of the semester. Ben had chosen to write the required course paper on the relationship of Oscar Wilde with Lord Alfred Douglas and Wilde's concurrent literary output, widely acknowledged to be the best of his career. He hoped that the topic might allow him to ask some provocative questions during Dr. Delaney's office hours, but he was thwarted during his early appointments by the presence of the other teacher who shared the room. Ben's opportunity had eventually come when he brought in the nearly complete paper for a final discussion and found Delaney alone. After a half hour of Ben's carefully prepared questions, the professor had gone to his bookcase to pull down a book for a reference. Ben stood up and moved next to him to read the page. He had carefully nudged closer, his heart racing, until their arms touched. His breath stopped when their eyes met, but his courage failed and he couldn't get a single word out. Delaney looked at him oddly for a moment, shook his head slightly, then retreated behind his desk. Somehow Ben managed to get through the rest of the meeting, but afterwards escaped to a wooded park near the school and berated himself for hours.

When Neal Delaney left at the end of the semester, Ben had felt crushed with despair, convinced he had forever lost the opportunity for true love.  Eventually, of course, he realized what an idiot he had been and burned the excruciatingly embarrassing poetry.  Despite his best efforts, however, an ember of regret had always lingered in his heart for what he wished might have been if he had only acted on his desires.

**************** ***************

During the rest of the program, Ben found himself growing more and more entranced by the voice emanating from the radio.  He became so lost in the spell that the rich eloquence spun around him that, for the life of him, he couldn't recall later a single song after that first one. He couldn't quite pin down any particular thing that drew him in; the distinctive Irish accent was charming but not overwhelming. It was not surprising that Ben found himself comparing it to a certain doctor of literature. There was no slickly polished patina of a typical commercial announcer, but rather an understated, roughly powerful confidence that Ben found very attractive.  The mellifluous tone spoke to him, drew him in, pulling him ever closer to the seductive warmth as it gradually began to blow a tiny breath of life into long-buried ashes.

By the end of the first hour he felt an odd familiarity with this stranger, almost a feeling of deja vu for a scene that might have happened in some alternate life, seeing himself as if he was back in one of the neighborhood bars his father had banned him from frequenting, sharing an evening with a close friend as they listened to a local band.  Ben shut his eyes and hugged a pillow, relaxing completely as the voice washed over him like ocean waves on a sunny beach.

"This concludes my portion of the broadcast this evening.  If you enjoyed the music, or have any suggestions for other shows you would like to hear, please drop us a line, send an email or call.  We appreciate your support for the United Public Access program. If you are interested in participating in the program or would like more information, please visit the web site, the UPA office at the Communications Arts building at the university, or ask your local librarian. Stay tuned to this station; in just a moment Trina Jordan will be bringing you jazz oldies from around the world, with a special visitor on tonight's show from the university's music department.  Thank you again for your support.  This is Quilan Finn signing off."

Ben lay motionless for several minutes as the radio droned on unheard.  The magic voice still echoed in his head, and a once-familiar yearning tickled his heart.

Eventually he stirred, sat up and drew a heavy breath, letting it out slowly.

"Qui... lan... Finn..." his tongue trickled over the syllables, trying them out. "God, but that voice reminds me so much of Neal Delaney, or at least the way I felt about Delaney! Who is this man?"

Ben sat for a while longer before finally getting up to visit the bathroom next door, then distractedly undressing and slipping into bed. Sleep was elusive; his broken dreams were haunted by snatches of songs, a sonorous voice and visions of what might have been and what might yet be.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Two §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Sunday morning found the young man lying in a tangle of sheets. Ben sorted himself out, disposed of his morning erection, then finally got up. After a quick stop in the bathroom, he threw on a t-shirt and a set of old sweats. He stepped into the basement, which had once evidently been a rec room but was now mostly storage for old furniture and boxes. Even with the large bedroom and full bathroom carved out of it, it was still quite a big space. After Jane had suggested he should see if there was anything he might want to use in the basement, Ben had cleared one end and fixed up the weight machine he had found buried under a stack of old clothes. He did some stretches and a set of pushups and sit-ups, then went upstairs and out the front door.

Ben jogged slowly down the long driveway. When he reached the road, he turned left and began running at a steady pace. The Wyoming elevation meant the weather was still cool even near the end of April, the sun bright but not yet powerful enough to bring warmth to the wooded land, and his breath steamed a little as he warmed up.

While he ran along the winding road, Ben's thoughts churned as he tried to understand his strange fascination with the unseen voice that had come through his radio. After his unspoken romantic tragedy, he'd had passing infatuations, but this had grabbed him like an anaconda dropping from above. He didn't believe it was just the Irish accent. Ben had met other people from Ireland, even had a young Irish immigrant in one of his college math courses for a whole semester, and he had never flashed back to Neal Delaney with anything like the intensity he'd felt the previous night.

After a mile and a half, Ben turned around and started back as his internal struggle continued. Perhaps it was the power; Neal had been a powerful man, self-confident physically and emotionally, and it showed in the way he spoke and the way he carried himself. Or maybe it was the passion; Ben still got chills up his spine when he remembered the poems about rebels and revolutions that Neal had read to them. Throughout the radio program there had been an undercurrent of feeling, a warmth that hinted of deeper emotions. Whatever it was, that voice had touched something inside him that he had thought was long out of his reach, something good, and he found himself wanting more. By the time he got back to the house, he had worked up a healthy sweat and a determination to find out more about a man named Quilan Finn.

Ben went in the front door and passed through the kitchen to the garage. He returned with milk, cereal and a jug of orange juice, which he set on the table.

"Good morning, Tammy," Ben said.

Bloodshot eyes blinked as a short young woman in a bathrobe, her light brown hair loosely tied back, looked up. "Morning. Coffee's on." She took a sip from the large steaming mug she held in two hands. Tammy Martin had one of the upstairs rooms, sharing a bathroom with Jane's other boarder, Cynthia Vernon, a tall brunette.

"Thanks." Ben poured himself a cup of coffee, then sat at the table to have his cereal and juice.

A few minutes later Jane came in, announcing, "I'm heading off to church now." She was dressed in a simple skirt and blouse, an overcoat on one arm. "Cindy still out?"

"She went off with Ricky Hernandez again after we left the dance club." Tammy shook her head. "I think it's getting really serious with those two. She hasn't gone out with anyone else in months."

"Well, we'll see how it goes," Jane said as she shrugged into the coat and went toward the garage.

Ben followed. "Let me get that door for you."

Jane started her pickup truck as Ben swung open the garage door. She carefully backed out, called out, "Thank you, Ben, that was right kind of you," then waved as she drove slowly off.

Ben smiled and waved back, then closed the door and went back to finish his breakfast.

**************** ***************

The promised tractor repair job ended up taking Ben's entire Sunday afternoon. Another restless night had only made the yearning more acute and fortified his resolution. Fortunately, Ben didn't usually work on Mondays, so the next morning he began his hunt for Quilan Finn at the main library. A few minutes after opening time, Ben found himself in a side room with an enthusiastic librarian who was more than happy to introduce him to their catalog of UPA offerings and press three brochures on him. She showed him the cassette tapes and CDs of story and poetry readings and the smaller set of tapes of the most popular televised offerings. With great regret, she had to admit that the UPA web site had only recently received a large grant for new servers that would allow them to properly index their archives and convert them to downloadable formats. She gushed happily, however, about the wonderful work the town committee and university had done to start the program and all the work the volunteers had put in just to collate some manual filing information for the recordings. She was starting in about the television programming when she was called away to handle a minor crisis with some misfiled documents.

"Wow." Ben blew out a big breath of relief as he recovered from the inundation. "I guess she must really like the program." He smiled as he sat down in front of a monitor. There were two computer monitors on a table and six carrels: two with small televisions with tape players and four with audio players; all six stations had large headphones. He checked the short menu on the screen and called up the entry for radio shows, but was disappointed to find a notation that this section was still under construction. He went on to the entries for various types of readings; again his search was fruitless as these items were categorized by basic items such as genre, age suitability, title and author, with no indication of who the reader was.

After a frustrating hour, Ben pushed his chair back with a sigh. He sat thinking for a few moments, then reached for the brochures he had tossed onto the table. One was a short overview of the entire UPA program: how it was started, the two main elements of visual and audio projects and some points of contact. The second dealt mainly with the visual side, which included the public television station, the types of shows they had and various types of volunteer work available in technical, production and on-air areas. He set that one aside and picked up the last trifold.

"This looks a little more promising," Ben muttered. He leaned forward to study the leaflet. "Let's see, they have three recording studios... computer stuff for the web site and archiving... local radio station... ah, there's the reading program and public service announcements..." Ben pulled the paper closer to get a better look at the final panel. A small map showed the location of the UPA offices. "I think a visit to the university is in order."

**************** ***************

Helmet tucked under one arm, Ben wandered down the long hallway on the third floor, checking out the numbers beside the doors. He didn't find the one he wanted, but there was a door with a sign claiming to be the UPA Audio Program. He went in and put his helmet on the long counter. Within a large open area, there were seven desks and two long tables with several telephones, but the only occupant was a young woman sitting at one of the desks. She was on the phone, listening intently and taking notes. She looked up and waved her pencil in Ben's direction in a vague greeting.

Ben waited patiently. Eventually the conversation ended and the woman walked briskly over to the counter. Ben noted the brown hair, brown eyes and generous sprinkling of freckles.

"Thanks for waiting; I'm afraid we're a little short-handed today. I'm Sandy Miller, director of the UPA audio programs. What can I do for you?" Her voice was pleasant, the smile genuine.

"Ben Kennan." He reached over the counter to shake her hand. "I've heard of this UPA program, and I was hoping to find out more about how it works. I'm not really interested in the TV programs, but I thought the radio side sounded interesting."

They chatted for several minutes about the history of the program. The town council and university both provided some funding, but much of the money came from grants and contributions. A lot of the university student volunteers were from the communications arts and journalism programs, interns came in from the high school, and quite a few of the townspeople participated in both the on-air and off-air activities. There was a joint town/university committee that approved all of the requested on-air shows for both TV and radio. In addition to the recorded readings, they did a lot of pre-recorded radio shows to fit people's schedules, but also a fair amount of live radio. Training was available from volunteer instructors, and occasionally they got people from the commercial stations and the state public broadcasting station who would teach or help with on-the-job training.

"We only have a few paid positions, so we really do depend heavily on our volunteers, even if somebody just wants to help in the office or with the fund-raising drives. With our regulars, it's almost like a big extended family. If there's a particular area you are interested in, I can provide more details or arrange a tour of the facilities. There will be a live community news show on at noon if you'd like to see how that works."

"That would be wicked pisser, if you don't mind." Ben hesitated a moment. He had been trying to think of the right words to use without sounding like a stalker, but had not been having much success. He plunged ahead anyway. "Actually, it was one of the radio shows that really caught my attention."

At that moment a teenager with a backpack rushed in, his thick glasses askew, panting heavily.

"I'm terribly sorry to be so late, Miss Miller. I had a flat tire on my bike and then my mom asked me to drop off some stuff at Uncle Fred's house and..."

"It's alright, Joey, not a problem at all. And I do wish you would call me Sandy," she shuddered delicately, "Miss Miller makes me feel like a maiden aunt."

"Yes, Miss Miller, I mean Sandy." The boy was still flustered. "Should I get started on the filing first?"

"That will be fine. Don't forget the Roundup starts in twenty minutes. Armand said you can help him in the control room today, so most of the paperwork can wait until after the show."

"Gosh, thanks, that's great, I'll take care of that whole stack for you." He dumped his backpack on one of the empty desks and started attacking an overflowing file box.

"High school intern," Sandy whispered to Ben with a smile.

"I don't think you look like any of my maiden aunts," Ben said, smiling back.

"You probably say that to all the program directors you meet," Sandy deflected the comment. "But we were talking about you. You said you heard one of our radio programs?"

"Yes. Saturday night there was a great show with Irish and Scottish folk songs, some very nice selections." Ben hoped she didn't ask him which songs he had liked, as he didn't actually have the foggiest idea what had been played. "I was particularly impressed with the DJ. He sounded like he was really enjoying himself and was sincerely interested in the music." Ben leaned a little further over the counter. "I think his name was Finn, and he had this fantastic voice. I was curious about his Irish accent, though, since it seemed unusual for this area. Is he actually from Ireland?"

Sandy straightened from where she had propped both elbows on the counter. "Mr. Finn IS one of our more popular presenters, although we don't get to see as much of him as we would like." Her voice had dropped into a decidedly chilly 'official business' tone. "I'm afraid program policy does not allow us to give out personal information about our volunteers or staff, however."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that to come out like I was trying to pry or be improper," Ben said, thinking desperately about how he could recover the situation. "I haven't been in town very long, and I really am interested in the program so I could do something useful and meet some new people. I'm a pretty quick study with the technical stuff, and I'm willing to work hard if you'll give me a chance." Ben realized as he spoke that he actually did want to get involved, and didn't want to let this opportunity slip away.

"But you still want to know about Mr. Finn, don't you?"

Ben looked down, tilted his head, and rubbed at an invisible speck of dirt on the counter. "Well, to be honest..." He leaned far across the counter, then looked up and whispered, "His voice certainly did get to me...."

Sandy looked skeptical, but leaned in herself to hear what he had to say. "And?"

Ben's thoughts raced as he tried to figure out yet again how he could proceed. A memory of a past missed opportunity made him bold, or perhaps desperate. He felt that Sandy seemed to be a very modern-minded sort of young woman, so he decided on a truth so outrageous that he didn't think she would believe it. He pitched his voice low enough that only the two of them could hear it and murmured in a conspiratorial tone, "I was really, really hoping there was a way to get a tape of him just reading all those public service announcements so I could masturbate while listening to it."

She straightened again, blinked. "Public service announcements..." It took a moment for the full thought to sink in, but when it did Sandy started laughing. She laughed hard for several moments, slapped the counter, and laughed some more. "God, you actually sounded serious..."

Ben just grinned and cocked one eyebrow.

"Goodness..." Sandy fished a tissue from under the counter and wiped her eyes. "I must admit I've never heard that one before... ah, that's better." Her breathing was almost back to normal. "I do have to give you full marks for originality."

"I was serious about wanting to find out more about the program. "

"But you also actually do want a tape of Quilan Finn reading PSAs?"

"I won't lie to you. Yes, although I realize now it was a stupid thing to ask you to do, and I apologize again," Ben admitted. "It's just that when I heard him on the radio, Finn reminded me of a teacher I had in high school. He was from Ireland, visiting for a semester, and really helped me learn a lot about growing up." Ben smiled with a self-deprecating, bashful duck of his head. "I checked the library already to see if I could find story readings or anything like that, but their catalog doesn't say anything about who the readers are."

Sandy glanced at the intern who was trying hard to look like he wasn't listening. "Come into my office a minute."

Ben grabbed his helmet, went around the counter and followed her into a small office just big enough for a desk with a computer, two chairs and a filing cabinet.

"Alright, Mr. Kennan." Sandy closed the door, then stood with her arms folded and a bemused expression. "I think I like you, so I'm going to offer you a deal. And if you ever say anything about this to anybody, I will lie like a rug and deny it all."

"I'm listening. And I won't say anything, Scout's honor." Ben held up three fingers.

"First thing – when are you free?"

"Right now I'm working part time at Midway Motorcycles Tuesday through Friday, and sometimes I fill in on different days or more hours if one of the other mechanics is out. They usually close at six."

"How about this weekend?"

"Sunday is good because they're closed. I expect I'll probably be off this Saturday too."

"Alright, here's the deal. We're having one of our smaller fundraisers this weekend for both the television and radio sides, and I need another body to do some grunt work: running paperwork; coffee for the folks on the phones or in the studio; answering phones if necessary; hauling boxes; cleaning up; that sort of thing. Eight hours on Saturday, starting at four and eight on Sunday, starting at two."

"And in return?"

"I am going to take you back to meet our computer whiz who is working on our archiving project. I can't promise you exactly what he might be able to put together at this point, but we'll see what he has on file for our Mr. Finn and get you a tape of something IF you promise to listen to it closely at least once with something other than lascivious intent." She snickered before continuing. "Think you could manage that?"

"I'll try real hard," Ben said with a straight face.

"We'll just leave that one alone." Sandy grimaced and shook her head. "While he's doing that, you will take a look at the two static studios and sit in on at least fifteen minutes in the live studio so you can see what goes on."

"It's a deal," said Ben, trying not to sound too eager.

"I'm not finished. If you do a good job this weekend, and if you are still truly interested in the program, I will give you a call the next time Mr. Finn is scheduled to come in to do some readings for us so you can see how a real pro does it." She pointed a finger at Ben and looked at him sternly. "I'm not going to ask you why you want to meet him because I'm not sure I really want to know, but I will give you this warning. He's a pretty easygoing person, but if you bother him in any way that I think is inappropriate, I will personally kick your butt down all three flights of the stairs of this building. And you'll probably have the rest of the crew waiting downstairs to kick your butt all the way to the far parking lot."

"I will be a perfect gentleman, promise." Ben's heart leaped wildly, but he swallowed nervously, wondering a bit about this man who inspired such fierce protectiveness. "I understand that you need to be careful about personal information, and I appreciate this more than you can know."

Her expression softened. "It's alright." She reached for a pencil. "You have a number where I can reach you or leave a message if this works out?"

"I can't afford my own phone yet, but my landlady lets me use hers and she has an answering machine. They don't like long personal calls at work, but for a short call, it will be fine." Ben gave her both phone numbers.

"You can leave your helmet in here if you like." Sandy tossed the pencil onto the desk and headed out the door. "Well, on with the show, then."

**************** ***************

A long hallway stretched behind the front office.

"The video and audio rooms are all along this back hall even though the entry offices are separate. The financial people are down there close to the TV front office. The computer and media rooms are halfway down." Sandy stopped at a door with a poster of a duck smashing an old computer. "In here."

They went past alcoves with banks of various recording machines and consoles. A wide door opened to reveal a brightly lit room with racks of computers and a long table lined with several monitors and keyboards. The temperature was noticeably cooler in deference to the quantity of heat-producing equipment.

"Ewww! What is that smell?" Sandy wrinkled her nose.

A fruity chemical odor wafted toward them. The source proved to be a young man in a wheelchair. His slicked-back black hair was cut short on the sides and long through the middle, with strange blond highlights. He spun the wheelchair around.

"Hey, muchacha! What ya think about the hair?" He grinned, white teeth shining in the brown skin. "Little sister is still going to that hairdresser school and wanted to practice."

"I think it stinks. Literally. I hope you got something worthwhile out of it."

"Hey, I'm a good brother. Only two weeks of kitchen chores was the price." He shrugged. "Besides, I figure the gunk will wash out and the hair will grow back. Who's the new guy?"

Sandy just shook her head. "Ben Kennan. Ben, meet Tommy Diaz, our resident computer geek."

"Pleased to meetcha."

"Same here."

"So, what are we up to? Have keyboard, can work miracles." Tommy waved a hand with a flourish.

"Modesty is not Tommy's strong suit." Sandy rolled her eyes. "Ben is interested in the audio program but isn't really sure what it's all about. I'm going to show him around the studios and we'll sit in on some of the Roundup, but I thought it might be useful if you could dump a tape of some things for him to take home and listen to. I know the programmers are just getting started on the coding for the new web site pieces, but are you far enough along in the archiving part to pull out some specific files?"

"Depends on what you want. I started on the short bits so I've got indexing for all the PSAs and poetry, about half of the short stories, but not much yet on the novels or any of the video."

"PSAs would be perfect," Sandy said, glancing at Ben. "Can you pull up a set just by one reader? I was thinking of Quilan Finn. He does such a nice job those would be a good example."

"Finn, eh? Yeah, he's damned good." Tommy thought a moment. "Let me take a look." He spun the wheelchair back around and typed rapidly. After two minutes he gave a triumphant crow. "Got it. All of his PSAs for the last couple of years." He turned his head. "I can dump it to a cassette tape or a CD or both. What kind of playback gear you got?"

"I've got a good boombox; it does both tapes and CDs. I'll take whatever is easiest for you to do, if you don't mind?"

Tommy glanced up at Sandy, who nodded. "No problem at all. Easiest and quickest would be to send the file to the CD bank to burn the set. Take me about five minutes to throw the file together; the physical copying will probably take about twenty, maybe twenty-five minutes."

"That will be great. I'll take Ben through the studios and we'll sit in on a bit of the Roundup, then we'll be back. Thanks a lot."

Tommy nodded absently as the other two left.

For the next half hour Sandy and Ben toured the various parts of the facility, explored the control and support systems and watched from the control room as one of the journalism students hosted a live radio program about community events and fielded calls. Armand, a retired sound engineer, explained the basics of the broadcast equipment. After they picked up the copies of the Finn PSAs, Sandy walked Ben back to the front office so he could retrieve his helmet.

"Remember, Saturday at four. And expect to run your butt off." Sandy leaned on the counter as Ben was heading out the door.

Ben paused in the doorway and turned back. He saluted crisply and barked out, "Yes, ma'am. Have butt, will work, ma'am," and swiftly made his exit. He grinned at the shouted "Smartass" that followed him down the hall.

**************** ***************

His precious copies carefully stashed inside his jacket, Ben hurried home. Under his helmet, a huge grin was plastered on his face as he contemplated enjoying the rest of the afternoon. He put Myrna away in the garage and bounded down the stairs to his room. Ben locked the door and took off his jacket and boots. After loading the first disc into his boombox, he began to remove his t-shirt but remembered with a guilty start that he had promised to listen to the recording before indulging in any personal fantasies. He sighed and pulled his shirt back down.

Ben decided this would be easier if he wasn't quite so comfortable. He pulled the desk chair around, hit the start button, then settled back in the chair with his feet on the bed.

The first message was an announcement for a fundraiser for the Wildlife Conservation Center. Ben tried to listen objectively and avoid being sucked under the spell of that amazing voice. He forced himself to analyze the presentation and keep track of the topics. The more he listened, the more he was impressed by the quality of the readings. The Irish brogue was considerably reduced, the diction and pacing were spot-on and there was a sincerity underlying even the most mundane of topics. He couldn't help the warm glow growing inside him, but managed to keep it in check through the end of the set. When the last announcement was finished, he leaned back to think about what he had just heard.

"Why, Miss Miller, I do believe you are a devious little soul," Ben said with an amused snort. "I think I'm supposed to learn something about our Mr. Finn from his PSAs." He tipped the chair back and began counting on his fingers as he thought about what he had heard. We've got bits about the Wildlife Conservation Center, the local SPCA, avoiding forest fires, not feeding the wild animals in the forest, fishing licenses, hiking safety in the forest, camping in the forest, and I think those last few were referring to some kind of presentations by forest rangers at local schools and parks. He closed his eyes and tried to decide what it all meant. Hmmm, he mused, does that mean he is an animal lover, or a conservationist, or maybe he's one of the national forest people?

Ben opened his eyes and sat up, the chair legs hitting the floor with a thump. "Definitely something official with the national forest people, I think. There's that extra touch of authority and zeal when he's talking about the forest." He smiled. "Well, whatever else he is, he has a wonderful voice and I have got to meet him." Unless I want to stake out the UPA offices every day, he thought, I guess I'll have to make sure I stay on Sandy's good side this weekend.

Despite his best efforts, the warm glow the voice created in his gut had continued to spread, fanning the building need Ben felt, bringing him another notch closer to the fantasy images rapidly resurfacing from his high school passion. He stood up to stretch and had to adjust himself, having already grown half hard. Ben slid the chair back to the desk and went to lie on the bed. He reached out and let his fingers rest on the start button for a long moment, allowing the anticipation to increase. Ben swallowed, then ever so gently pressed down. He settled back, squirming a little to get into a comfortable position, and set his feelings free.

**************** ***************

By 9 o'clock on Sunday night, Ben was sore and very tired, and there was still another hour to go. He hadn't had any idea how much work could be involved in what he thought was going to be a simple affair of helping some people answer phones. He strongly suspected that Sandy had gone well out of her way to take advantage of the extra labor at her command, but he wasn't about to say anything that might jeopardize his possible opportunity to meet Quilan Finn.

From the moment he had shown up on Saturday, it seemed to Ben that he had constantly been on the move. It turned out that the weekend affair was a joint fundraiser for the entire UPA program. Ben had been made responsible for a host of support duties: keeping the phone workers, on-air teams and technical teams supplied with coffee and sodas (of which they seemed to consume prodigious quantities); distributing food to the various teams; collecting the call sheets from the phone workers in Sandy's offices every fifteen to twenty minutes and delivering them to the UPA accountant, whose office was at the far end of the hall past the TV studio; schlepping donated food, sodas and ice up the stairs; taking trash down to the dumpsters across the parking lot. It was made far worse by the fact that two of the three elevators were not working and the third was tremendously slow, so he ended up taking the three flights of stairs most of the time. It seemed that whenever he had a spare moment to catch his breath, Sandy would inevitably find him and give him more work to do, such as cleaning out storerooms and hauling the junk down.

Ben paused outside the office door, leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor, empty trash cans beside him. He let his head flop back and closed his eyes, hoping for a brief respite.

"Hey, rise and shine, Kennan. Still lots to do."

Ben groaned at the cheerful voice and forced himself back to his feet. "There surely can't be a single piece of paper left anywhere to take downstairs."

"One last pot of coffee to make, more forms to run and it's time to start taking the empty coolers down," Sandy said. She had a happy smile as she continued, "In between that, we found some old broken equipment and outdated files stashed away in the former computer room you can haul out. By the time you finish that, we should be about ready to wrap up and take the last of the trash down." Her smile got even wider as she poked Ben in the ribs. "Time to move it, Mr. PSA man."

"Oh, God," Ben groaned again. "I'm never going hear the end of that, am I?"

"Nope. So get your butt in gear and get back to work." She seemed inordinately pleased with herself as she headed back inside to encourage her phone workers in their efforts.

It was past eleven by the time the live radio and television shows were closed down, the offices were cleaned up and the last of the volunteers had departed. Ben put the clean coffee urn into a cupboard. He took a look around to see if there was anything else to be done, then flopped across the top of an empty desk. He felt more wiped than he ever had from any of his sports workouts as he stared blankly up at the ceiling.

"Well, another one over." Sandy slowly came in and dropped into an empty chair.

The room was silent for a long moment until the accountant popped his head in. "Got the preliminary results, Ms. Miller. Looks like we did at least 5 percent better than last time."

"Thanks, Jerry. Appreciate the hard work."

"No problem. See you tomorrow."

Ben had noticed the fatigue in Sandy's voice. He sat up, his legs dangling over the side of the desk, then leaned back to let his arms take his weight. He watched her for a moment, noting the slumped shoulders, the lines on her face, down-tilted head and half-closed eyes.

"Is it always like this?" Ben asked.

"Pretty much. These short ones are actually more intense than the longer ones," Sandy replied. She paused, a smile twitching the corners of her lips. "As for the question you didn't ask, yes, it is always worth it. I believe our work here is important, as do a lot of other people."

There was another silence.

Sandy sighed. "Ben."

"Hmmm?"

"I owe you an apology." She finally looked up. "I took advantage of our deal and abused you shamelessly to see if you would stick. You were doing at least three people's work. I hope I didn't scare you away from the program."

"It will take more than a little hard work to run me off." Ben laughed, almost a snort. "Actually, that's a relief in a way. I was beginning to feel pretty inadequate watching how hard you were working. I don't think I ever saw you sit down more than a minute unless you were filling in on the phones."

"I suppose I do tend to get wrapped up in trying to keep everything running smoothly." She cocked her head to one side. "I sent some new readings to Quilan Finn on Friday."

Ben sat up straight, his exhaustion temporarily forgotten. "The significance of that information is...?" he asked softly.

"He likes to practice before he comes in. So, depending on when he can get off work and how much time he has available to practice, he will be coming here to record sometime in the next two to three weeks."

"And?" Ben felt his heart racing. He swallowed nervously.

"Well..." Sandy let the suspense build for a few moments as she rubbed her chin. Finally she smiled. "Don't go out of town for a while. You'll be getting a phone call."

"You're wonderful." Ben grinned as he let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding in. "If I had the strength left, I'd hug you."

"I'll settle for walking me to the car." Sandy hauled herself out of the chair. "Grab your helmet and let's get out of here."

"Yes, ma'am," Ben said jauntily as he hurried to comply.

Ben's smile lasted all the way home, and was still on his lips when he finally fell asleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Three §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

For the next several days Ben found himself thinking ever more often about the upcoming visit to the UPA office. He played the set of PSAs every night, and began playing some of it in the mornings as well. Frequently he pleasured himself while listening, remembering Neal Delaney and imagining the various possibilities of what Quilan Finn might look like in comparison to his once-upon-a-time fixation, what their first meeting might be like, or what the mysterious stranger's hands would feel like as they caressed his body and brought him to completion. Other times he simply listened, letting himself drift away into the velvet warmth. Rather than risk another request of Sandy, he invested some time at the library plowing through their archives until he had unearthed several stories and poems, which he carefully copied onto tapes and added to his hoard.

Even at work, the voice (as Ben had come to think of it), spoke to him in the back of his mind. More and more his fantasies began turning into daydreams; it started with his lunch break and soon spread to his other breaks. One morning he went outside on his rest period to get some air and let himself indulge in his new obsession. Myrna was parked out back of the shop in an invitingly sunny spot, so Ben stretched out in one of his favorite poses. Myrna was just the right size to let him recline atop her, his head and shoulders cradled by her protective handlebars with his feet crossed at the back edge of the long seat. The sun was warm as he drifted off and the voice called to him, pulling him into reverie.

"Kennan!"

The sharp voice ripped into Ben's cocoon of bliss, spilling him out into cold reality. He almost fell off his motorcycle, only just managing to catch himself as he stumbled to his feet.

"Yes, sir?"

A tall figure in crisp blue coveralls stared at him, arms crossed. "You were supposed to be on a fifteen minute break. You've been out here almost fifty minutes." Frank Mendoza, head mechanic and an original ten percent stakeholder in Midway Motorcycles, was clearly not happy.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, Ben knew he had made a huge mistake. Normally Frank was a reserved and taciturn man, and it was rare indeed to hear anything beyond a soft drawl from him. "Yes, sir. I... I guess I lost track of the time."

Frank glanced up at the second floor administrative office windows, then gestured with his head. "My office, now," he barked.

Ben trailed glumly along behind his supervisor until they entered Frank's small office off the maintenance bay. The battered metal desk was bare except for a few parts and a ledger book; the bookcases along one wall were lined with manuals, catalogs and models of motorcycles, while the other wall had a computer desk which had a large flat-screen monitor and keyboard on top of it. Frank sat down behind the desk as Ben came to a stop in front of it, standing silently with his eyes down.

For a long moment Frank scrutinized the young man. "Listen, Kennan, I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but you better straighten up right now if you want to stay. You were doing good work until this last week or so, but lately you've been sloppy, absent-minded and drifting around."

He began ticking off points on his fingers. "You've been dragging in every morning. You've been taking longer and longer on jobs. Last time you had shop cleanup, you left trash in the cans and rags out. And today, dammit, there's only the two of us here and there were three jobs waiting in the shop while you stayed out there screwing off." His voice was low and tight, his eyes dark with anger.

"Yes, sir. I'm very sorry, sir." Ben shifted uncomfortably, a flush steadily creeping up the back of his neck. He had a great deal of respect for Frank Mendoza; while he wasn't a gregarious man, he was an excellent mechanic and had freely passed on his expertise whenever asked. "I'll make up the time however you want. I promise it won't happen again."

Frank sighed. He pushed his chair away from his desk and leaned back. "Why should I believe your word?"

"I don't give it lightly, Mr. Mendoza, but when I do you can count on it." Ben raised his head and looked directly into the older man's eyes.

"Mmm," Frank grunted as he looked up at Ben. He cocked his head to one side as if coming to a decision. "Listen up. You got personal issues, you work them out on your own time and don't bring them in here. You need help or some time off, you tell me about it before it becomes a major crisis. Like I said, you were doing some damned good work until now, and this is the first time you've been a problem. I hate to see anyone get on Margaret's bad side because she can be a holy terror, so I'm going to cover for you." He looked pointedly at Ben. "This time. And ONLY this time."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Ben swallowed a sigh of relief; he had heard the horror stories about Midway's co-owner and her reputed on-the-spot firings. "I'll get my act together, you have my word on that. I really appreciate this."

A knock on the open door was immediately followed by the entrance of a middle-aged woman in a dark business suit. Handsome rather than beautiful, average height, dark blonde hair cut short, her most striking feature was steel gray eyes that seemed to see everything.

"Morning, Frank." She nodded pleasantly. "Everything alright?"

"Yes, Margaret. I was just going over the work schedule with Kennan." Only Dennis Jones and Frank Mendoza dared address her as Margaret; even Tony Carmine, the head salesman for almost ten years, still called her Mrs. Jones. The thought of a nickname such as Marge was simply inconceivable.

"I see." She looked at Ben as if she knew exactly what had really happened. "Just wanted to remind you the quarterly inventory needs to be finished this week. Can you have it by Friday?"

"It's only Wednesday and I've already started it, so unless there's a rush of business, I don't think it will be a problem." Frank looked at Ben. "Probably be a good job for Kennan to finish up."

"As long as it's accurate and on time I don't care how you it's accomplished," she replied. "Also, Dennis wants to get together before the end of the month to talk about updating the summer schedule. I'll have the revised business projection by the end of next week."

"Okay. I'll start laying out a projection for parts and labor costs based on what we've already discussed so far, then make the final adjustments after I get your input. There's a couple of new models coming out we'll probably want to take a look at as well, but I'll check with Tony on those first."

"Alright." Margaret took one last piercing look at Ben, who had moved to the side of the office and was working hard at trying to be inconspicuous, then nodded at Frank and left.

Frank tilted back a little further in his chair, his arms crossed. "She knows something is wrong," he said to no one in particular as he looked up at the ceiling. "When it comes to the business side, I swear she can smell a problem. Whether it's taxes, licenses, pay, inventories, employees, financing, you name it and she'll find it." He leaned forward suddenly, the chair thumping hard on the concrete floor as he put his hands on his desk. He looked directly at Ben. "Dennis and Margaret built this place up from nothing over the last twenty years, and Margaret has no tolerance for anything that might impact the integrity or profitability of the business. Dennis might be the soul of Midway, but Margaret is the backbone. You would do well to remember that if you want to keep working here."

"Yes, sir." Ben hesitated a moment before continuing. "I guess I owe you some time back."

"You certainly do." Frank stared hard at Ben. "I've got two jobs for you. Tonight the shop floor needs to be degreased and scrubbed down. Tomorrow I'll show you how to finish the inventory; it has to be in to Margaret by three o'clock Friday. You'll get paid for your regular hours, but it's up to you how long it takes you to finish the other work. You got a problem with that?"

"No, sir, no problem at all. Just show me what you want done and I'll take care of it."

Frank stood up, then came around the desk, pausing next to Ben. "You've got talent. Work hard and you could have a great future here, Ben, but do you understand the damage you've done to your credibility with the way you've been acting?"

"Yes, sir, I do." Ben stood quietly, not wanting to make the situation any worse than it was.

"I meant what I said. If you've got a problem, I want to know about it. Bad news doesn't get better hiding under a rock."

"Yes, Mr. Mendoza." Ben sighed, knowing he was going to have to work hard to regain this man's respect. He looked up. "Thank you."

"Just get yourself back together. Right now it's time to work." Frank headed out the door without waiting for an answer.

**************** ***************

It was a very subdued young man who returned to the shop floor. He worked hard, ensuring that no detail was left unchecked for each motorcycle, pausing only to wolf down the sandwich he had brought for lunch. As he labored, what little attention he could spare from his tasks went toward berating himself for failing to live up to his own standards.

Ben had long prided himself on his work ethic. When he was young, he had found that keeping up good grades had spared him from his father's often caustic comments. Doing well in the activities and skills considered necessary for their social position had given him a feeling of satisfaction and helped him earn approval from others, and if he did exceptionally well, even occasionally got the attention of his parents. It was an integral part of his self-image, and he enjoyed working hard.

By five in the afternoon, he had completed all of his assigned jobs. He stopped to call Jane to let her know he would be at work late, then went to find Frank Mendoza to get instructions for his first extra chore. They moved the few remaining repaired or serviced machines to the outer warehouse where the inventory of new and used bikes and equipment was stored, then carefully packed up Frank's current bike refurbishing project and moved it out as well.

Ben surveyed the large shop area from just inside the dutch door that led to the showroom: beside the door was the large electronic screen that displayed the list of jobs in progress; workbenches along one wall, several with heavy metal-working or other large specialized tools bolted in place; the doors to the janitorial closet and the supply and parts room at the far end; the door to the employee lounge and restrooms midway along the wall that separated the mechanic bay from the showroom; and large automated doors along the outer wall. He glanced up toward the second floor where a comfortable customer lounge had glass windows on several sides to allow views of both the mechanic bay and the showroom and various staff and support offices were located.

He went into the employee lounge to use the restroom, then changed into the oldest grey coveralls he could find on the hooks along one wall, not daring to look at the blue coveralls with the Midway logo that the permanent mechanics Frank Mendoza and Bobby Torvald used and which now seemed much more unattainable. He went back out on the floor, then with a sigh, grabbed a broom and began sweeping.

The concrete floor wasn't actually all that dirty. Normally, there were several heavy mats where most of the work was done. Although the floor was usually swept every night, there were occasional stains from fuel, oil or various other substances that had been spilled on both the mats and the floor. For the next two hours Ben swept, then mopped with a detergent solution, then meticulously scrubbed every spot on floor and mats with a special cleanser. He finished up with another mopping to remove any traces of the strong cleaner.

The work was tedious but required minimal attention, so Ben had plenty of time to think during those two hours. Once he had finished castigating himself for the way he had let his work habits slip, he had to face a more difficult truth.

Why?

Ben danced around the question for quite a while before he finally admitted to himself that it was the intense fascination with Quilan Finn that had distracted him. Thoughts of his past loss had continued to fuel his hopes for a new beginning, and he realized that he had clearly let things get out of hand. He well remembered the keen derision among his school friends for those they had called 'love-sick puppies' for their glassy-eyed mooning about, and how much trouble he had taken at the time to ensure that no hints of his feelings for the popular Dr. Delaney were visible. It was therefore more than a little embarrassing to his ego to realize that he now seemed to have fallen into that same dismal category, not just emotionally but also physically with his frequent self-pleasuring to the mystery voice. And all this over a man he had not even met yet made it that much worse. He shook his head in self-disgust and scrubbed even harder at recalcitrant oil spots as he vowed to maintain better control over his emotions.

It was after seven-thirty by the time Ben had finished with the entire floor and re-inspected every corner and crevice. He took a few moments to survey his handiwork, enjoying the cool breeze blowing in from the outer doors that he had left open to help disperse the odor of the pungent chemical cleaners. He took his buckets, mop and brushes outside for a thorough rinsing with the hose, then returned the lot to the janitorial closet.

He was checking to ensure everything was tidy when his attention was drawn to the back corner of the large space. Two shelves were labeled as 'pending projects'; there were five gallon drums, boxes, paint rollers, paint pans and several other miscellaneous containers.

He picked up a large box and stared at the brightly lettered cover exclaiming "Amazing Floor Covering," "Showroom Quality for Your Old Concrete Floor" and "Protects From Oil and Solvents." He opened the box and removed the instructions, then went back to the doorway and stared out at the shop floor.

Ben read over the instructions again, checking how to apply the base coat of medium gray, the blue flakes that had to be sprinkled about while the paint was wet, and when to apply the final clear protectant coat. He noted the short drying times for each layer and the idea that had taken root in his mind quickly blossomed into a full-fledged plan. He was convinced he could get the whole thing done that night if he tackled a small piece at a time and was careful.

Three hours later Ben was sweating, filthy and swearing at the persnickety gunk that was the final coating. Half the floor was covered with what was actually a very nice-looking finish, but he had found that it dried even faster than he had counted on, and the top layer was not only a clear protectant but had very fine sand for traction underfoot. He had to slowly apply a small section of gray with one roller, quickly sprinkle a very carefully calculated amount of the blue flakes, stir the top coat, then apply the sticky top coat with another roller.

"Hey! You!" A stick banged against the metal railing of one of the open outer doors.

Ben looked up, then straightened, his back protesting from the hours of being almost continuously bent.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" A burly policeman in the black pants and light blue shirt of the local force was standing in the doorway, nightstick in hand.

"My name is Ben Kennan. I work for Midway." Ben gestured with his hand. "I couldn't really do the floor when customers are around, so I'm doing it now." He dug in his pockets until he found what he was looking for. "See, I have the keys."

"Kennan, huh? I've never seen you around before." The officer looked distinctly unconvinced.

"I'm pretty new here, sir. I work directly for Frank Mendoza if you want to call him."

"Yeah, I know Frank." The policeman looked around the shop. "You got any proof of identity?"

"Yes, sir." Ben put the roller down and walked over to the door, bringing out his wallet as he went. "Here's my driver's license and vehicle registration. That's my motorcycle right there."

The officer scrutinized the offerings for at least a full minute while Ben fidgeted over the delay, then went over to Myrna and compared the registration to the plate. He called someone on his radio and chatted for another couple of minutes. Finally he came back and returned the documents. "I guess you're okay. If you're going to be staying in the area more than a few months, though, you'll need to replace that Massachusetts registration and license with local ones."

"Yes, sir."

After one last look around, the policeman nodded and went on his way.

Ben went back to his task, swearing when he realized the gray underbase had already gotten too tacky to properly accept the blue flakes. With a resigned sigh he started reapplying a fresh coat.

Dogged persistence kept Ben at it until he finished, the work almost as much a sop to his own self-respect as it was an attempt to get back in Frank Mendoza's good graces. It was past four in the morning by the time he had cleaned up, put away the leftover supplies and locked up the shop. He cleaned off the worst of the sweat and gunk in the restroom, then decided he was too tired to go home, so he flopped on the couch in the employee lounge and dropped immediately into sleep.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty."

Something prodded Ben in the ribs. He cracked one eye open, staring blearily up into the grinning olive face of Tony Carmine.

"Unghgh." Ben closed his eye and tried to roll over on the narrow couch.

Tony poked him harder. "C'mon, guy. Time to get up."

Ben groaned and sat up, his body letting him know it was not happy. He stood up quickly when he saw Frank standing in the doorway, arms crossed, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"You got my keys?" asked Frank in a flat tone.

"Yes, sir." Ben pawed through his pockets as he realized he had forgotten to return the shop keys to their peg. He handed them to Frank.

"You do that to my floor?" Frank jerked his head in the direction of the shop behind him.

"Uh, yes, sir?" Ben wavered uncertainly in the face of his boss's lack of expression.

Frank looked at him for a moment. Finally he reached into a pocket and tossed a portable electric razor at Ben. "Get cleaned up. Your shift starts in an hour."

"Yes, sir," Ben called to the back of the mechanic as he turned on his heel and left. He looked at Tony, who was still standing in the lounge with a big grin. Ben was irritated by now. "What?" he scowled.

"Frank was right. You do look like crap," Tony chuckled as he headed for the door. He paused just before leaving, "But your floor is real pretty."

If Ben had had something unbreakable to throw he would have, but as it was he could only shrug and head for the restroom to try to put himself to rights. After several liberal doses of heavy-duty cleaner and a fresh set of coveralls, he was finally presentable.

The rest of the morning was relatively routine except for the fact that it seemed that everyone who worked in the building made it a point to stop by the bay to look at the new floor. Some only stared from the dutch door, but Dennis and Margaret both wandered around the entire bay. Neither made any comments, so Ben wasn't sure if he had done something good or just dug himself deeper into a hole with his unauthorized little venture.

At one-thirty, Frank took Ben back to the supply and parts room. The steel door that opened to the shop bay had a twin in the wall to the right that opened to the back of the service and direct sales office. The team in that office interacted directly with customers to receive and track maintenance tickets and sell parts and accessories. A desk with two terminals was between the two doors. To the left inside the large space were two steel cages. One held the expendable supplies, low-value parts and accessories, most of which were also offered for sale to customers. The other cage was more heavily reinforced and held the high-value parts, tools and equipment, including the rack where portable electronic devices were plugged in to recharge overnight.

Frank sat down with Ben at the desk. He called up the first screen.

"This terminal has access to our entire network, but you have to have a password for the individual applications. Only a few people have master passwords that let them in to everything, such as sales, finance, maintenance, inventory, personnel, etc. I've already done the warehouse, so today you'll be using the inventory update system for everything in the two cages. Karen and her team take care of the accessories and supplies out front, the janitor closets, all restocking orders, and she'll reconcile maintenance tickets also." Frank paused. "You remember how every bin or slot has a bar code, and you have to use the scanners mounted by the doors whenever you take anything in or out of here?"

Ben nodded.

"Well, the usage and restocking tracking gives us the running inventory." Frank picked up an electronic tablet with a scanner attachment on a coiled cable. "This reader is similar to the tablet you use to track and sign off the maintenance tickets; they both use either the stylus or the small keyboard, and they both have a wireless connection back to the network. I've already signed you into the system, so all you have to do is visit every bin, slot, drawer, shelf or individual large item, scan the barcode, check how many the inventory says you're supposed to have, verify that number and enter either a validation or correction. I'll show you on the first couple of items. Any questions?"

"No, sir. It sounds simple enough."

"It is pretty simple." Frank smiled slightly. "It is also very important, and very mind-numbingly boring. Make sure you take breaks; I don't want you falling asleep on me or missing anything."

"Yes, sir, I understand."

"Good. Let's get you started."

Nine hours, a quart of water, six sodas, four cups of coffee, five restroom breaks, three candy bars and another phone call to Jane later, Ben swung the steel door closed and locked it. His eyes felt like they were about to fall out of their sockets as he leaned his head against the door and blew out a big sigh. "Jeeezus Christ, when Frank said it was boring, that had to be the understatement of the year," he muttered to himself. He turned around and was surprised to realize that Frank's office was still open, the light spilling out into the semi-dark bay.

Ben tentatively stuck his head into the doorway and waited until Frank looked up from the computer screen. He glanced at the monitor, wondering vaguely why part of the split screen looked so familiar.

"I finished the inventory and locked up the cages, sir."

Frank leaned back and stretched before he answered. "How many discrepancies did you find?"

"Two hundred and thirty seven, sir. Almost all in the supplies, expendables or small-parts cage. All of the high-dollar items and the tools were correct, except for a few screwdrivers, flashlights and sockets."

"Damned good for a couple of thousand items. Guess it pays to do all those spot checks and to keep nagging everybody to use the scanners." Frank glanced at his watch. "Tomorrow I want to look at the individual tool boxes, but I think we've done enough for now." He nodded at Ben. "Since the inventory is finished, I'm moving you to the noon to six shift tomorrow." He paused a moment. "You okay to get home?"

"Yes, sir. A drink of cold water from the bubbler and I'll be fine."

"Alright, go home and get some sleep. I'll finish closing up."

"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow." Even though Frank hadn't offered any praise, Ben had a glow of satisfaction that he hadn't been questioned when he reported on the results of his painstaking work.

Frank waved vaguely as Ben headed for the back door.

Ben eventually made it home, reassured his anxious landlady that he was really fine, and no, he wasn't in any trouble, it was just some extra projects at work, then had a sandwich followed by a hot shower.

It wasn't until he was back in his room and pulling up the covers on his bed that Ben finally realized that half the screen on Frank's computer was that same screen he himself had been using during the marathon inventory, and the other half was a camera shot of the cages from earlier in the day. No wonder Frank didn't need to ask any questions, he thought. You weren't really on your own at all, you idiot, and he never said anything about all that work you did on the floor, either. Ben gave a faint, disheartened curse at the thought of how far it seemed he still had to go to regain Frank's confidence in him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Four §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Life moved to a new tempo over the next week. Ben still indulged in listening to his precious recordings every night, but he resolutely limited his sessions to only one hour per evening and nothing at all in the mornings. It occurred to him that he had been hiding away in his room, so he forced himself to spend more time with Jane and his fellow boarders for meals. He was particularly disgusted with himself when he realized he had even neglected his weekly email to Maureen. Ben spent that first free weekend in an orgy of work to help clear his mind, cleaning out the second floor and repairing loose boards of the capacious barn and chopping firewood for Jane, as well as putting in several hours on an odd job repairing fences for another of Jane's many friends. When his Midway shifts resumed, he made a point of arriving at least ten minutes early, cutting his breaks short and volunteering for extra tasks. Ben took particular care to ensure that his work was fast but meticulous. He knew Frank was keeping an unobtrusive eye on him, but felt he was making progress in repairing his reputation. He was grateful that Frank had apparently not said anything to anyone else about his problems and he was determined to repay that debt.

By Friday, Ben was feeling more comfortable at work again. He was in the employee lounge on his lunch break and had just finished his sandwich when his name came over the loudspeaker.

"Ben Kennan, phone call up front."

"Hey, you got a hot girlfriend?" gently ribbed Frank's full-time mechanic, Bobby Torvald. Bobby was a big rawboned blond, a retired Army mechanic with a tattoo of a well-endowed redhead on his right bicep and a flaming Harley-Davidson on his left. Below the redhead, there were four scrolls; each contained the name of one of his children.

"It's probably just my landlady chewing me out for leaving my laundry in the machine again." Ben smiled to deflect any further comments as he quickly left.

Ben thought it was a bit odd that he would be getting a call at the front receptionist's desk; if he had to give anyone a work number, he normally used the service desk number. Conscious that he was going out to the front of the store area, he buttoned the front of his coveralls and finger-combed his hair. One of the part-time university students was at the receptionist's desk today. He was talking to a customer and pointed Ben toward a phone on a desk behind him.

As Ben started to pick up the phone, he was acutely aware that Margaret was less than six feet away talking to Karen as they looked at some sort of paperwork. He stood a little straighter and spoke crisply into the handset.

"Ben Kennan speaking. How may I help you?

"Sandy Miller, UPA. How ya doing?"

Ben's heart stopped for a moment, then took off in overdrive. He had deliberately pushed all thoughts of the potential meeting with Quilan Finn into a very tightly locked container in his head to keep them from distracting him at work again and now it had sprung open like a wayward jack-in-the-box. He had to stop and swallow hard before he could continue.

"Ben? Hey, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just fine. What's up?"

"You free tonight?"

"I get off at five, and I don't have any other plans after that."

"Great. Be at the office by six, Mr. PSA man, if you want to meet your secret idol."

"At your UPA office, right? Six o'clock?" He tried not to sound too eager.

"You got it. See you tonight."

"Thanks. I'll be there."

Ben gently replaced the handset in its cradle. He was completely lost, and had to draw a deep breath to bring himself back to reality.

"UPA?"

The unexpected question from behind him almost made Ben jump. He cleared his throat as he turned around to face Margaret Jones.

"Yes, ma'am. That was one of the people with the United Public Access program. I had asked them to let me know when I could actually see one of their recording sessions."

"I've heard of them. You thinking of doing some volunteering?"

"Yes, ma'am. Maybe more on the technical side."

"I see." She glanced up at the clock.

Ben took the hint. "I'd better get back now. Lunch break's about over."

Margaret nodded as Ben almost scurried away from her watchful gaze.

**************** ***************

The emotional control Ben thought he had been achieving tottered precariously; he had to ruthlessly jam his emotions back into that small inner box just to make it through the afternoon. Twice he had to retreat to the restroom to splash cold water on his face. His work kept him distracted, but the hour he had to endure between five and six was torture. He vacillated between peaks of anticipation and valleys of anxiety.

Just before six o'clock, Ben was standing in the hallway outside the UPA office where he had spent the weekend working for the fundraiser. His helmet was clutched tightly under one arm and his palms were sweaty.

Jeeezus, man, get hold of yourself, he chided. He hadn't been this nervous since his first formal dance when he was twelve. He leaned against the wall and tried to get his breath. He was vaguely aware of a small trickle of conversation inside the office.

"'Tis a worthwhile cause, and it's my pleasure to help out."

"We could see a lot more of you if you didn't insist on practicing forever," Sandy teased.

"If a thing is worth doing, it's worth doing right," came the mellow baritone.

"Oh, sweet Mary, it is him," Ben whispered. By now he felt that he could recognize that voice in a howling storm. He sucked in his lower lip and bit down for a moment to keep his knees from buckling. "Come on, get in there, dammit." He straightened up and stepped into the doorway.

There was a disconcerting moment when time seemed to lurch and stagger. An image of a gorgeous black-haired man of average height shimmered in Ben's vision for a second until he shook his head and saw a brown corduroy blazer morph into a brown leather bomber jacket. He blinked and refocused his line of sight.

A tall rangy man in jeans leaned on the counter, shaggy chocolate hair overdue for a cut pushed carelessly back and creeping down his neck. A broken nose rendered the long face less than classically handsome, but the weather-worn features were strong and the smile was genuine.

Ben froze when his gaze fixed on the large hands. Finn's elbows rested on the countertop, his hands lightly clasped together in front of his face. Large hands, powerful but elegant, long fingers caught in a still-life caress. It was even better than his visions; Ben longed for those hands to caress him. He had a sudden urge to touch them, to kiss them, to worship them.

"Here he is, our young friend from the motorcycle shop." Sandy's voice cut through Ben's absorption. "Quilan Finn, meet Ben Kennan." She waved toward Ben. "Ben Kennan, meet Quilan Finn, reader extraordinaire and occasional music jockey." She smiled.

"Hey," said Ben weakly. He could feel a tingle running through him and was afraid to think about the goofy grin he was sure his face was sporting.

"Hey, yourself," Quilan said, an abashed bit of a smile on his face as he reached out a hand. "Don't be paying attention to the young lass; she exaggerates too much."

The tingle turned to electric shock as Ben's hand was engulfed by the warm flesh of Finn's paw. He felt as if a current had been completed between them and had to swallow hard as he felt his jeans getting tight. Ben was entranced by the blue eyes, but wasn't sure what to make of the flicker of puzzled surprise he saw there as the pressure on his hand increased slightly and lingered.

Ben tried to make his brain form words and finally managed to speak. "I've heard some of your readings, Mr. Finn, and I think I would have to agree with Sandy. They are quite good." He felt a sharp pang of loss as the hand holding his was finally pulled away. He had to make a conscious effort to stop himself from grabbing it back.

"Well, I try," Finn replied. His eyes were still on Ben, a thoughtful expression in them that was at odds with the self-deprecating smile on his lips. "Sandy tells me you were thinking of joining her squad of volunteers."

"I've already put him to work at a fundraiser," Sandy broke in. Her smile widened. "You really should hear this, though." She turned to Ben. "If you were back home and had a four-wheeled vehicle, what would you do with it after you returned from a festive gathering?"

"A festive gathering?" Ben stared at her for a moment with a bewildered expression, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

She stared back at him with a raised eyebrow.

Finally Ben shrugged as he took a guess at what she wanted. "Well, I suppose that if I was coming back from a party, I'd put the car in the garage. Unless it was a really wicked pisser hoobanger; then I might just leave the car in the car park."

"Didn't I tell you?" Sandy was almost giggling as she looked back at Finn. "Isn't that just the most adorable accent?"

"What?" Ben wasn't sure whether to laugh with her or be offended.

"It's certainly interesting," Finn said carefully, although the corners of his mouth were twitching. "Ben, you have a good voice, even if I didn't understand some of that, but I'm afraid that if you were thinking of becoming one of the readers or announcers, we'll have to reintroduce you to the letter R, or half the people around these parts won't understand words like 'cah pahk' ."

"Oh, that." Ben felt a familiar flush creeping up the back of his neck and tried to will it away. "Actually, I was more interested in the technical side. I've always enjoyed working with machines and equipment."

"Then I'm sure you will be a welcome addition. It always seems that most people fancy themselves as being DJs or TV actors rather than being happy working in back."

Before Ben could answer, several more people hurried into the room. Ben watched as Finn was almost mobbed; he easily responded to eager greetings and deftly fended off the advances of a particularly ardent young blonde, while mildly flirting with all of the women, young and old. Even Tommy was here tonight and came charging in to get in a high five; Ben noticed how Finn casually slipped down into a chair to stay at eye level with the young computer genius.

Sandy let the chattering go on for a few minutes before raising her voice. "Alright, everyone. We've got work to do tonight." She made shooing motions. "You TV people get back down to your end of the hall. Everyone else to Studio C."

The group reluctantly dispersed, many trying to get in a last touch to Finn's arm or shoulder. He took it all in stride and finally he, Ben and Tommy followed Sandy down the long hall. Tommy was waxing voluble about how well the web and archiving projects were going and how far ahead of schedule they were.

As they entered the studio, Ben saw that Armand and another of the interns were already working on fine-tuning the large bank of controls. He nodded to Ben as Tommy wheeled up to discuss some technical issue. Finn headed through the control room and into the recording area behind a large, heavy pane of glass. Sandy steered Ben over to a couple of extra chairs near Armand.

"We visited this place when you were first here, but it was dark that day so we just peeked in," Sandy said softly. "This studio is just for recording audio, whether it's PSAs, talk-overs, stories, or radio shows. With those six mikes, we can put several people on at the same time to pre-record community interest shows and panels; we can also record and digitize music for the pre-recorded radio shows. The television people have a large recording studio also, so on a really busy day we could have live television and radio and be recording both television and audio."

Ben nodded as he watched Quilan Finn finish his preparations. The reader laid his jacket over a chair, pulled a pair of round wire-rimmed glasses from the pocket of a faded tan t-shirt and put them on. The stack of announcements was set neatly in front of him on the table, the chair was pulled forward, the microphone was adjusted, and large headphones went on. He heard Finn's voice over the speaker as he worked with Armand to fine-tune the sound level and balance. Finn smiled as Armand cracked a few jokes, then leaned forward.

"Alright, everyone," Armand announced, "Quiet, please. Preparing to record." He held up four fingers, then counted them down. "In four, three, two and one." He pointed the last finger into the booth as the red "Recording" light came on.

Sandy nudged Ben and mouthed "Watch." Ben looked into the booth, then had to look back again to believe what he was seeing. The genial, smiling expression was replaced with a totally focused, tightly harnessed energy. Finn’s shoulders were hunched forward; those big hands were holding down the stack of paper. The blue eyes had darkened and seemed to be boring into the microphone.

Ben looked at Sandy as the perfectly modulated, almost totally accent-free voice poured over the loudspeaker. He raised both eyebrows and silently mouthed "WOW." She nodded with a big smile, then leaned forward to rest her forearms on the edge of the console as she watched the show.

Six announcements in a row went off letter-perfect. Finn paused after the sixth to roll his shoulders and neck before leaning forward again.

"Armand, on this next one for the July fair - I'd like to try it a couple different ways, perhaps one a little slower to catch some of the older people, followed by a higher energy version."

"Sure, no problem. Let me adjust the balance a bit, then we'll roll."

Finn nodded, took a few deep breaths, and quickly focused in again at Armand's signal.

Ben could only shake his head in wonder as he listened to several versions of the next three announcements. Finn's control was astounding, his timing impeccable, his mastery of the spoken language incredible. Ben drank it in, the intense but melodic flow feeding his infatuation and keeping him half hard.

In the midst of what seemed yet another perfect blurb, Finn abruptly stopped. He straightened, ran a hand through his unruly hair. He pulled the top sheet of paper closer to his face and muttered to himself.

Ben looked at Sandy questioningly. She shook her head and shrugged.

"Is there a problem?" asked Armand.

"Agh, I've got this one all wrong." Finn whacked the side of his head with the base of one hand. "Come on, you idiot, stop arsing around," he chastised himself. He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then took another. When he opened his eyes the focus was back, and he nodded to Armand to continue.

An hour later the red light went out. "Okay, that's a wrap on all of them. Great job," Armand announced.

Ben released a sigh, then swung his chair around at the unexpected sound of clapping from behind him. Several people had silently drifted into the room and were now noisily expressing their admiration. Finn looked up, smiled a bit and gave a small wave before he went back to gathering his papers together and putting his glasses away. Sandy gently urged the visitors toward the exit as Armand and Tommy went to work checking the files, tabbing them and doing their session backup. Ben stood off to the side, surreptitiously adjusting himself. Once Finn joined them, they headed back to the office, leaving the technical people in a deep discussion.

Still feeling gloriously warm inside from the effects of the recording session, Ben trailed along a little behind, letting himself admire the lithe grace as Finn walked down the hall. His imagination was running riot as he envisioned himself walking beside Finn instead of Sandy.

Back inside the office Finn was ambushed by the blonde again. Ben felt a totally irrational stab of jealousy as he watched the young woman try to rub up against Finn.

"Surely you wouldn't be trying to tempt a good Catholic boy with sins of the flesh, now would you?" Finn joked as he stepped back from the would-be assault, his brogue back in full evidence.

Ben didn't hear the answer as a cold jolt of reality rattled his head. That phrase had been a joke at his Catholic boarding school, a code for both boys and girls seeking sex. A leaden lump of dismay settled in his gut as Ben realized he had been so caught up in his own fantasies that he had forgotten to take into account Finn's more likely preferences.

"Jessica, you know the rules both for the university and the program," Sandy had stepped up with a steely glare. "He already told you 'no' earlier."

"It's alright," Finn said softly. "I'm sorry, Jessica, but I'm afraid Sandy's right. I wouldn't feel comfortable doing something that goes against the school policies."

The blonde pouted, but between Finn's gentle rejection and Sandy's protective stance, she appeared to have figured out that discretion was her better choice. She smiled and tossed her hair back. "Sure, no problem. But if you change your mind, you've got my number." She swiftly left the room.

"Sorry about that," Sandy said as she turned to Finn.

"Don't worry about it, lass. I've been around a while and I can deal with her type."

"It's just, well... I don't like to see people bother you, especially here, when you came in to help." There was a wistful tone to her voice as she continued. "You've been a good friend..."

Finn gently hugged her as he read her unspoken desire. "It's alright, lass. I've seen you growing up these last ten years, and you've become a fine young woman. I'm glad to be your friend, too." He left an affectionate kiss on her cheek.

As he watched the byplay and thought about the flirting and touching he had seen earlier, Ben realized that Quilan Finn seemed to be as straight as the straightest arrow could possibly be. He hid the sick dismay in his gut as he realized that he had completely fallen for a man he might never be able to have, and the agony of his long-lost first secret love wrenched his heart. He had to bite down hard on his tongue to keep the pain from showing.

"You know, what you really need is a fine young man closer to your own age like Ben here," Finn said as he released Sandy from his hug. "Though I think you'd have a bit of a tussle getting him away from some of those other girls I saw watching him." Finn gave a slap to Ben's shoulder.

Ben blushed a bit, but not for the reasons Finn was probably thinking as the tall man leaned in a bit closer.

"I have to give you fair warning, though, Ben. She's one of these modern women who don't want to stay in the kitchen and is awfully energetic and bossy," Finn said with a wink and a smile.

"Don't worry, I've seen her in action. I got tired at that last fundraiser just watching her," Ben said with a weak grin, still trying to hide his own reactions.

"Go on, you two idiots," Sandy scolded with a mock frown, but there was laughter in her voice. "It's high time we were getting out of here."

"A good idea. We'll walk you to your car," said Finn.

The atmosphere was friendly as they ambled to the parking lot. Sandy and Finn discussed potential new story readings that had been requested while Ben mostly listened, his helmet under one arm. They saw Sandy all the way to her little coupe, waving as she drove off.

"Now let's just hope my poor old truck will get me home," Finn said with a sigh.

"Been giving you some problems?" Ben asked.

"I'm not exactly the best when it comes to machines," said Finn with a self-deprecating smile. "And it is awfully old, but money for a new one just seems hard to put aside."

"Let's make sure you at least get her started then," said Ben, a vague idea niggling at the back of his mind.

They walked four rows over to a battered pickup truck. The bed was rusty and badly dented, with a couple of animal cages tied down in a corner.

"Looks like she's had a hard life," Ben said, as Finn climbed in the cab.

"I use it a lot to transport animals and supplies for the Wildlife Center and the humane shelters, as well as bouncing around out in the forest," Finn said absently as he fiddled with the key. After a few tries, the truck's engine coughed to life but was idling roughly.

"I'll bet she hesitates and shakes a lot, probably can't accelerate well, especially uphill," said Ben as he casually leaned in the driver's window. "She dies a lot, too, doesn't she?"

Finn looked up, his head at an angle. "Well, yes. How'd you know?"

"Hey, I'm a mechanic, remember?" Ben smiled. The vague idea solidified and he decided to push, hoping for any possibility to see more of this amazing man. "If you want, I could come over and take a closer look at her."

"I don't have much money at the moment to pay you, and I wouldn't want to be a burden. I'll just let it go a bit longer."

"How about a trade?" Ben asked, calling on his memories of Jane's negotiations.

"A trade? What sort of trade?"

"Well, I'm offering time and some of my expertise," Ben said, trying to keep his tone casual. "How about some of your time while I'm looking at the truck? I was quite intrigued by your voice... maybe you could read something to me, or maybe just talk." Ben wanted to shout that Quilan Finn could read the damned phone book and Ben would be in heaven, but wisely refrained from expressing that sentiment.

"You want me to read to you?" The skepticism was clear in Finn's voice, and there was a very subtle body shift away from the open window.

"Or just talking would be great, if you wouldn't mind. I've always liked working on cars and motorcycles, so that's fun for me, but I've only been in town a short while, and I'd really appreciate it if you could tell me more about the place, what there is to do around here, some good places to visit, what it's like the rest of the year... you know, help me learn more about the area." Ben tried to keep breathing, hoping his desperation wasn't showing.

The truck chose that moment to die with a loud rattle and shudder. Finn gave an exasperated snort and shook his head. He looked at Ben with a rueful grin. "Well, talking is something I think I can handle, I guess. Are you sure it's not an imposition? I don't want to be putting you out after just meeting you."

"I didn't have any plans at all this weekend. I like helping people, so it's a fair deal if we can help each other." Ben held his breath, not daring to push any harder.

Finn hesitated a moment more, then smiled. "A fair deal, then. Can you come out on Sunday, say around noon? I live off Route 137, one mile before you get to the Wildlife Conservation Center."

"Sunday noon is fine." Ben thought a second. "I know about where that's at. It's only fifteen minutes or so from the place I'm staying, so that's easy enough." He stuck a hand through the window. "See you on Sunday, then?"

"Appreciate it, Ben." Finn returned the handshake firmly. "See you on Sunday."

Ben stayed put until the truck coughed back to life. He waved as Finn drove off, then headed to Myrna, a happy grin on his face.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Five §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Saturday morning Ben woke early, a hard erection demanding his attention. He satisfied his need by playing one of Quilan Finn’s readings in the machine he kept close to his bed and slowly masturbating as he let his imagination loose. Afterwards he lay in bed a while longer, until the aromas of bacon frying and coffee brewing drew him out.

Ben cleaned up, then wandered upstairs in a pair of shorts and t-shirt. In the kitchen, Tammy was tending a large iron skillet of bacon while a pot of coffee perked happily.

"You in for breakfast?" Tammy asked.

"Sure, I'll throw in the eggs," Ben replied.

"Okay." She added some more bacon to the pan.

Jane was on the phone, and Dexy and Delilah waited politely in the doorway to the laundry room. Ben stepped past the dogs to get to the garage, returning with a carton of eggs and tub of butter from the old refrigerator. He added his contributions to the breakfast meal and set the table as Tammy began moving the cooked bacon to a plate. Jane put more bread in the toaster, still listening to the wireless handset as she worked.

“Morning,” was the cheery announcement as Cynthia Vernon came bouncing in. “Can’t stay long, gotta get to work a bit early today. We’re expecting a new shipment this morning.” Cynthia worked at one of the feed and tack shops as a clerk.

Ben replaced Tammy at the stove, poured off some of the bacon grease, then cracked several eggs into the hot skillet. He tended the eggs as Tammy put the bacon and a stack of toast on the table and Cynthia added milk, juice, honey and strawberry jam.

Jane finally hung up the phone and fetched the pot of coffee as everyone began sitting down at the table. Ben brought the plate of eggs over to complete the breakfast offerings. They helped themselves and started eating.

“Anything wrong?” Ben asked. He had noticed that Jane seemed to have been disturbed by whatever she had heard in her phone conversation and was quieter than usual.

“That was Luis Gonzalez’s daughter on the phone. He’s taken a turn for the worse after his stroke last week, and the doctors say he won’t be able to live on his own any more. His daughter is going to take him in, but she’s got the new baby and things are pretty chaotic right now.” She took another piece of toast, setting it on her plate as the phone rang again. She got up to answer, spoke for only a few moments, then came back to the table.

“Reverend Jenkins from the church is putting together a couple of groups to help Luis. One set is going to his daughter’s house to clear out a room for him; the rest of us are going to meet Luis’s son and help pack up the old place so he doesn’t have to pay any more rent than necessary.” She sighed. “He was awfully young for such a bad stroke, only 57 a few months ago.”

“He seems like such a nice man, too,” Cynthia murmured as she got up. “He does good leather work. We've carried some of his halters and bridles on commission for him at the store for several years.” She washed out her coffee cup and put it away. She paused in the doorway before leaving and said, "Just wanted to let you know I won't be around this weekend. Ricky is picking me up after work and we're going down to stay with his parents. I should be back Monday."

"Thanks, appreciate you letting us know," Jane replied.

Tammy raised an eyebrow, which Cynthia studiously ignored as she turned to head out.

There was very little conversation during the rest of breakfast. After they had finished, Tammy offered to wash dishes if Ben would dry. The task went quickly as Jane left to feed the dogs outside and take care of the animals currently boarding in the barn.

Jane came back in and sat down at the table. After Tammy left to get ready to go out, Ben went to stand next to Jane, who was still remarkably subdued.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to borrow one of the tool boxes tomorrow,” Ben said. When he had cleaned out the garage, he had found a large assortment of tools scattered about in boxes and on shelves, and had organized them into three tidy sets. “I promised to take a look at Quilan Finn’s truck.”

“Of course, any time you want,” Jane replied automatically. She thought a second. “I met Quilan Finn eight years ago. That was the year we had the drought, and there were a lot of bad fires. The forest service people were looking for places to hold some of the injured animals, so I offered the barn. Very nice man. Is he still out by the Wildlife place?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Ben wanted to ask more about Finn, but Jane had lapsed into a distracted silence. Ben hesitated, finally put a hand on her shoulder. “Is there something wrong?”

Jane smiled a little, then shook her head. “Don’t pay any mind to me. It’s just one of my moods.”

“If there’s anything I can do, I want to help,” Ben persisted. He had grown very fond of his landlady and it bothered him to see her unhappy.

“It’s just Luis’s stroke,” Jane said very softly as she stood up. “That’s how my Roger went...”

Ben gathered her in and held her tightly. “I’m sorry.”

Jane returned the hug, clinging fiercely for a long moment before pulling back. Her voice was suspiciously rough as she mumbled her thanks and turned away. She poured a small glass of water and drank it slowly as Ben hovered a bit.

“Don’t worry about me,” Jane said quietly. “Roger went quite a while ago. I stay busy and try to do for others so I don’t have to think about things like that.” She squared her shoulders as she washed out the empty glass and put it away. “And it’s high time I got ready to go over to Luis Gonzalez’s place.”

“I’ll go with you,” Ben offered. “I’d like to help.”

Jane nodded. “That would be nice of you. Fifteen minutes?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Ben affirmed, then went to change clothes.

It took most of the day, but in the end, Ben was glad he had made the effort to help. It was sobering work, trying to sort through and pack up another man’s life. They cleared out the one-bedroom house, taking some things to the daughter’s place, putting others in storage. There was an awkward series of conversations when they had to decide what to do with the old man’s leather-working tools, the son finally offering to take them and hold them in case they would be needed again. Ben stayed behind with the group that cleaned the house top to bottom so the family could get the security deposit back.

The day's events helped take Ben’s mind off the questions swirling in his head about Quilan Finn, perhaps even giving him a bit of perspective on life’s priorities as he lay in his own bed later that night. There was still a driving ache inside, an emptiness in which Finn's name rang amidst the echoes of his past. He knew he wanted desperately to have any part of this man that he could get; he had to fight the urge to drive out to see him that very night. He was also all too aware that Finn was probably straight, but he could not come to grips with that issue and kept pushing it away. He didn’t know if it would ever be possible to have the kind of family ties and feelings he had seen earlier that day, but if he could only make a beginning somehow, maybe there was a chance, however tiny, that something good could grow.

Ben only knew that he had to try, no matter how much it hurt, because it hurt even more to think about living without Quilan Finn.

**************** ***************

The late May sun was bright, warming the land as Ben rode slowly along the state road, watching carefully for mailbox names. He was fighting the butterflies that had been building all morning, and had ended up leaving so early that he had to ride up and down the road several times to kill time. He was still early when he found the large wooden box marked Finn, so he slowed to a crawl as he went up the long gravel drive. When he arrived at the small building, he was grateful to note that the battered old truck was sitting on a concrete slab in front of a carport that had had sides added at some point. He had known he would probably have to go underneath the vehicle and hadn't been looking forward to having to lie on rocks or dirt.

Ben parked his motorcycle, then pulled off his helmet, gauntlets and jacket, leaving them on the bike. He looked around, studying the tidy one-story dwelling. The wooden sides were faded and worn, but seemed weathertight, and a newer-looking covered porch ran across the length of the face. It sat in the midst of a large grassy clearing that extended to the side and seemed to stretch behind the house to the trees that surrounded the clearing. Ben strolled along the front, then around the corner to where he could see a large picnic table and brick grill. He went back and walked up two concrete steps, across the porch, and pulled back the screen door. He paused and took a deep breath, then finally knocked on the front door.

A few moments later the door swung open. Finn stood there in a pair of old sweat pants and a sleeveless t-shirt. His hair was tousled and his eyes looked sleepy.

"Hi, I'm afraid I'm early," Ben said, "I hope that's not a problem."

"No, no problem at all. I was just up late with some sick animals at the Center." Finn ran a hand through his hair as he yawned. "I'll get the keys. Would you like you something to drink?"

"I'm fine. I'll fetch my tool box and meet you at the truck."

A few minutes later the two men had the hood of the truck up.

"I appreciate you coming out on your weekend," Finn said. He looked down at the assemblage of metal and wires, a bemused expression on his face. "I've just never been very good with engines and such."

"Everybody has different talents," Ben replied. "Machines happen to be mine, or at least I like to think so. I'm going to do a once-over on all the systems first so I can check out what kind of general shape she's in, then I'll see if we can't figure out what's causing the worst problems."

"Alright. You said you'd like to know more about the area. Was there anything in particular you wanted to start with?"

"How about some basics? I've been thinking of staying on here, so how about your take on the weather the rest of the year? And what's the area outside of town like?" Ben picked out a couple of screwdrivers and wrenches to put in his pockets, stuffed a rag under his belt, then began poking around in the engine compartment.

For several minutes Finn rambled on about the Wyoming climate, the differences caused by the changes in altitude and the people, geography and recurring activities. Ben already knew much of it, but enjoyed listening to the flow of words. Occasionally he would point out problem areas in the truck's systems, taking advantage of the situation to brush against Finn's arm or hand. He had to stop and bite his tongue when Finn leaned in for a closer look at the corrosion on the battery terminals, the entire side of his body pressing against Ben for a long heavenly moment.

Ben swallowed hard after that contact and scrambled in his head for another question, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "What's this Ruger place I keep hearing about?"

"Ah, old man Ruger," Finn said with a smile. "A hundred years ago, he was one of the local robber barons, made his money in mining and timber. He was also a fishing addict, but the story goes that he wanted to find a way to make his hobby profitable. He started the Ruger fishing lodge on his ranch up northwest of town. Things just kept growing from there, expanding the lodge, adding a guest ranch, then horseback and pack trips." Finn turned sideways, leaning a hip against the fender. "About forty years ago the family made more improvements to the lodge and added campgrounds, a hiking and biking business and about ten years ago some RV campgrounds. During the winter they have cross-country skiing. The lodge and shops support everything, and all that other stuff is what they call Ruger Base Camp. The family just kept building up the business and the infrastructure support, paying a big part of the expansion of the regional airport ten miles up the road, upgrading the roads and trails, working with the Forest Service for improvements and access rights. I think that at last count, the Rugers own something like fifty thousand acres along the official border of the forest, including several miles of the shoreline around Lake Sherall."

"Aren't they still adding on?" Ben stood up for a moment, stretching his back. "The guys at the shop mentioned something about ATVs."

"That's Ruger's Wilderness Wheels." Finn tilted his head a bit, "Let's see, that would be about two years ago when they opened that on the opposite end of the lodge complex from Base Camp. They bought up a new section away from the hiking and horseback areas, then built a bunch of trails for ATVs and dirt bikes. They have rentals and a support shop, switching over to snowmobiles after it starts snowing. I understand it's quite popular because of some of the off-roading restrictions in the forest proper."

"I could see the attraction," Ben said. He smiled before he continued. "You know, whenever you talk about 'the forest', I can almost hear capital letters in your voice. May I assume that you work there and enjoy it?"

"Well, yes." Finn looked away, a self-deprecating half-grin on his lips. "I'm in the Enforcement and Safety group. Started that almost seventeen years ago; been renting this place for fifteen years." He leaned back against the truck, one hand out to each side as he stared to the northwest. He was silent for a moment, a dreamy look in his eyes. "The Keo has been a wonderful place for me."

"The Keo?"

"Aye, Keogami National Forest. Locals call it the Keo." Finn shrugged. "The job is fine enough; the government pays fairly well and the benefits are good. But it's really the forest that's keeping me here." His smile grew as he began waxing lyrical about the beauty of the forest, the diversity of its trees and wildlife, and its peaceful serenity.

Ben smiled tolerantly. On the few occasions that Maureen had enticed him into camping excursions, he had found that the bugs bit too much, the dirt got into everything and it was quite boring. He enjoyed listening to the enthusiastic flow, though; it reminded him of Neal Delaney's passion for Irish history and literature. As for the current topic, he still didn't understand how someone could wax so rhapsodic over a bunch of trees.

Finn must have caught either the expression or the thought. He cut short his monologue with a rather sheepish expression and shrugged. "Anyway, the Keo is a nice place and it's been good to me. Except for the highest altitudes, much of the forest is open year round if you want to visit."

"Sounds interesting," Ben said, working to keep his tone neutral. "I've got to check the systems with the engine on and then look under the truck to check some more things out. Could you start her up and turn her off when I give the word?"

"Of course." Finn climbed into the cabin of the truck and waited.

For the next twenty minutes Ben worked in, around and under the truck, periodically calling out to Finn to turn the engine on or off. He methodically checked various systems. Occasionally, he would make an adjustment or simply compose a mental note to himself. Finally he gave a last shout to shut it down and silence reigned. Ben worked for a few more moments, removing selected components.

Ben pulled his rag out and wiped his hands as Finn dismounted from the cab.

"I heard her running the other night, so I don't think we need to do a road test right now," Ben said. "There are a number of significant problems you'll need to get taken care of pretty soon, but the worst immediate problem is that you need at least a basic tune-up, especially this frayed wiring, and we need to do some cleanup in your fuel system." He held up one of the parts. "You can see how fouled this fuel filter is. We should replace this along with the spark plugs and wires, and there are some adjustments I can do to help. I normally don't use additives, but in this case there are one or two I would recommend to help clear the fuel system and clean out some of the gunk in the engine."

"Right, I guess it is looking pretty nasty." Finn cast a dubious glance at the foreign device. "So how much is this going to cost?"

"Well, we really do need to replace this fuel filter, spark plugs and wiring, but I know where I can get some good prices for generic parts for the things that absolutely need to be replaced right now. I can clean or repair some other things. The truck's old enough that she doesn't have some of the fancy electronics the new models have, so I'm sure I can do the work without having to take her into a shop," Ben said thoughtfully. "There are some other problems you'll need to get worked on during the next six to twelve months, but I think I can keep today's tab around a hundred dollars or so. That'll keep you running a bit longer until you decide what to do about the rest."

"Ah, good, I can cover that without a problem." Finn gave a sigh of relief. "I was afraid we were looking at hundreds or thousands of dollars."

"This is just a makeshift repair," Ben warned. "Down the road, you'll need to make a decision about whether it's even worth fixing this truck or buying another vehicle." Ben fingered the old filter. "I've already got the tools I'll need, so if you want, I can go into town now and pick up the parts."

"You'd do that?"

"It's no problem. I like to finish what I start, and it won't take me long."

"If you're sure you don't mind..."

"Hey, it's a nice day and I didn't have any other plans. I can fetch what I need and be back before you know it." Ben grinned a bit, hoping to win his point.

"At least let me cover your gas, then."

"You've got a deal."

Finn smiled. "I'll get my wallet. Be right back."

A few minutes later Ben was on his way, Myrna purring happily as they headed down the road, reflecting her rider's delight with his success so far in his plan to further his potential friendship with Quilan Finn.

**************** ***************

Ben was quite pleased with himself as he rode slowly up the long driveway. He had checked out a couple of the local stores where he had found the best deals on parts while doing odd jobs for some of Jane's friends, and had managed to not only locate everything he needed, but also to get an oil change kit that was on sale and still have over eight dollars left. He parked Myrna, dropped the bag of supplies in the back of the truck and swiftly headed for the house. He was eager to share the news of his acquisitions.

Softly whistling a little tune, Ben paused by the foot of the steps. Instead of going up to knock on the door, he felt drawn to walk around the house. Just past the corner he stopped short.

"Jeeezuus Christ," Ben whispered.

A dream figure danced in the clearing, moving along the border of shade and sun. Quilan Finn's brown sweatpants and loose green shirt made him appear as one with his beloved trees, his bare feet whispering in the grass. Smooth, supple movements seemed effortless, boughs moving in the soft breeze as his arms passed through the air.

Ben crept silently to the sturdy wooden picnic table and slid onto the bench seat. He leaned forward, forearms on the table, and watched raptly as Finn continued his routine. After a few moments, he vaguely recognized the movements as some form of martial arts, but that was only a passing thought as he found he could not take his eyes off the vision before him.

The slow, elegant ballet continued to tease the edge of shadow and light, arms circling and thrusting, torso twisting, legs pulling strength from the earth as they shifted and turned. Finn's eyes were closed, a sublime serenity on his face. The total inner focus surpassed even that he had displayed during the recording session at UPA.

There was a subtle air of controlled power surrounding Finn that enthralled Ben. The longer he watched, the more he realized there was also an almost palpable feeling of peace, of oneness with his environment. As this understanding struck home, Ben suddenly felt empty and envious. It had often seemed to him there was something lacking in his life, but he had usually attributed the feeling to poor relationships with most of his family. The sun was hot on his back, but inside he was cold and hollow. He was still unable to name the exact nature of his longings, but knew that he craved what Quilan Finn seemed to have somehow achieved.

The enchanting performance continued, perfect balance and grace in every movement. Eventually the long body pulled up from a final crouching push, the legs slowly coming together and extending. The arms made their final open circle, the open hands gliding upward to cross briefly below Finn's face before moving downwards. A sigh seemed to whisper across the clearing as Finn melted into a loose-limbed standing posture, legs together, hands at his sides. He took two final, very slow breaths before opening his eyes.

"Wow," Ben breathed. He shook his head in wonder as he stood up, but felt keenly his need to own that wonder.

Finn walked toward the table, stopping a few feet away from Ben. "Welcome back. Were you able to find what you were looking for?"

"Sure, generics, but they'll work fine." Ben waved a dismissive hand before continuing eagerly. "I want to know about that stuff you were doing; that was pisser. What was it?"

"Is this 'pissah' a good thing?" asked Finn, raising an eyebrow. "You keep using that word."

"Usually it's good, but it can mean not so good depending on what's happening," said Ben impatiently. "But tell me what you were doing."

"That was a Tai Chi routine, the Yang style short form." Finn shrugged. "Just one of many exercises I've picked up over the years."

"But that was just wicked pisser. I mean, it was like poetry in motion," Ben enthused. "Can you teach me that?"

"There's a lot of places you can learn the basics of Tai Chi," Finn said. "They have classes through community adult education, the university and several private instructors. If you want to get more involved in that or get into some of the other martial arts, there's a good dojo up the road in Naylor, and a few more down south."

"No, I did a couple of years of martial arts a while back, and I'm not interested in the mechanics," Ben said impatiently. "You had something else out there... I don't know what to call it..."

"I'm not sure I know what you're asking about," Finn replied. He leaned his head to the side a bit and put his hands on his hips.

"It was like... like there was nothing else in the world, that you were just so totally focused and peaceful..." Ben's earlier enthusiasm was rapidly turning to frustration. "Dammit, I don't know exactly what was happening. That's what I need to find out. That's what I want you to show me."

"Ah, I believe I'm understanding what you think you're asking for, but it's not an easy thing to study," Finn said. "It's about learning to find yourself, something I've been trying to do all my life. A large part of Tai Chi is about methods for focusing on what is inside you, and it can help you with that search." He shook his head. "My approach to it is very personal and would not be a simple thing to pass on to another. 'Tis a collaborative effort, working together on finding the path of life. A teacher can only assist his student in finding the way. It is a commitment on both parts, and there is a cost to both in terms of effort and dedication."

"If it's the cost, well, I don't have much money, but I can find a way to pay you."

Quilan Finn straightened to his full height, and his eyes turned cool. "Now you've insulted me, boy," he said in a flat tone, his arms crossed. "That is not at all the sort of thing you can pay for, and I would never take money for such a thing."

"I'm sorry, that wasn't my intention at all," Ben said. Now confusion was added to his growing vexation. The people he grew up with certainly didn't have that sort of reaction to money, and he didn't know how to proceed. "I just wanted to learn..."

"Ben," Finn said firmly. "Listen, you seem like a fine young man, and I like you. I don't usually do this sort of thing, but I'm going to give you some hard words. They're meant to help you, and I hope you don't take them the wrong way."

"Alright," Ben mumbled. From the sympathetic expression he thought he saw on the older man's face, he suspected his perplexed irritation was all too obvious.

"I haven't seen much of you, but my impression is that you're a decent, hard-working person and you want to be a good person. I also appreciate your willingness to help with my truck." Finn put a hand on Ben's shoulder and continued softly. "But I have to tell you, you're still awfully young, and you've still got a terrible lot of growing up to do before you can even understand what it is you think you want me to teach you."

"Now wait a minute," Ben said indignantly as he took a step back. "I'm twenty-one, and I've worked hard all my life to get things I wanted. It wasn't all that easy, you know." His head was up, hands on his hips. "I've been out totally on my own for a year, and I've kept things together pretty damned well."

"That's a good thing, Ben," Finn said quietly, keeping his tone soft and even. He let his arm fall back to his side. "But when you were growing up, did you work because you needed to put food on your family's table?"

"Well, no, of course not."

That drew a raised eyebrow from Finn. "Then tell me, boy, this last year, how many meals did you miss? How many times were you flat busted?" He pointed a finger at Myrna. "And how many times were you so far down that you even thought of selling that motorcycle of yours?"

"I would never sell her," Ben said, but his tone was now far less certain. "And... well, I guess I always managed to eat and have gas money."

"Tell me something else, then. How often have you looked to put other people before yourself, even if meant depriving yourself of something you really wanted? And how many people did you truly take under your wing and care for?"

"We always did stuff for the charities," Ben said, floundering for an answer. He brightened a bit as a thought hit him. "And there was my older sister, I cared a lot for her." There was a bit of triumph in his tone at that one.

"Well, that's good, too," Finn said dryly. "But I have to wonder who was taking care of whom?"

"I..." Ben had to look away as the realization hit him that Maureen had bailed him out and taken care of him far more often than he had been able to do the same for her. He mumbled an answer, "I don't know, I guess."

"Ben, it's not your fault, but I can tell from the way you talk, the things you talk about, that you were raised posh. I'll bet you always had plenty of food, nice clothes, nice house, good schools, all that sort of thing, right?"

A flush was rapidly rising up the back of Ben's neck as he had to acknowledge the truth. "Yes," he said. He looked down at the ground, his hands stuffed into his back pockets.

"And I'd be willing to wager a year's pay that when you left home, you had a fair amount of money in your jeans as well as that nice motorcycle, didn't you? And that sister of yours would have sent you more if you had unbent your pride enough to ask, wouldn't she?"

The flush had reached Ben's face and he could feel it burning, even though he wasn't really certain of what he felt so ashamed of. "I suppose so," he muttered.

"I'm not saying you necessarily had an easy life, Ben, I know there's more to it than physical comforts." Finn's voice was kind but firm. "Tell me if I'm wrong, son, but it just doesn't seem very likely you ever faced the kinds of hardships that made you turn your soul inside out to find out who you really are and what you are all about on this earth. Or even without hardships, that you've seen the need to ask yourself about what kind of path you want to walk in this life. And until you can make a start on that, you won't understand what it is you are trying to ask me to do."

Words caught in Ben's throat and he could only stand in silence, head bowed. He had thought of himself as a pretty tough person, self-confident and resilient, although he'd never been particularly proud of the way he had handled that last scene with his father. Now, this man that he wanted, that he desperately needed, was asking him questions he'd never had to face, and his seeming pity burned Ben's ego.

There was a very awkward silence for a long moment.

Finally Finn spoke. "Ben, I do appreciate the work you offered to do on the truck, but I don't mind if you'd rather leave now. I'll sort things out on my own."

That blow was too much for Ben's pride and cut to the core of his self-image. His head snapped up. "No, sir. I started the job, and I won't it leave half finished." His face still burned, but this much he could do. "Whatever else you may think about me, I don't do half-assed work." He stumbled momentarily as he thought of the recent lapse that might yet end up costing him his job at Midway. "I said I would fix your truck and I will," he finished quietly.

"Alright," Finn said. "I thank you for that. You can leave the keys in it if you want." He paused before continuing delicately, "I'll, uh, just take myself off to the house, then, shall I?"

Ben nodded in acknowledgement, afterward watching silently as Finn walked away. When he was out of sight, Ben waited a moment longer until he heard the door close. He drew a deep breath before beginning his own walk back to the truck.

**************** ***************

Fortunately the main repair tasks for the tune-up and oil change were quite straight-forward. For the next two hours Ben replaced, adjusted, cleaned and tweaked as much as he could on the various parts of the old truck. His hands worked mechanically while his thoughts twisted and turned back on themselves in a confused whirl.

Ben's initial response was to block the pain with anger and hurt pride. Finn had treated him like a schoolboy still wet behind the ears, he fumed. Who the hell was this man to tell him that just because he happened to have grown up in a nice house, that he didn't know anything? How dare he claim he likes me and then turn around and tell me I'm a jerk? He mumbled and cursed to himself for quite a while, seething with resentment.

Unfortunately, Ben found he couldn't sustain his anger. Hard, sharp questions kept poking at him as he replayed the entire conversation in his head over and over. He finally admitted that Finn hadn't called him a jerk at all, just asked him some pointed questions that had taken him far out of his comfort zone. He had to concede that an awfully large piece of his life had indeed been very comfortable, physically at least. Maybe his family relationships hadn't been the warmest, but he'd seen plenty of others that weren't any better in his father's world, and he had to admit nobody had ever raised a hand to him until that final break. He might have worked hard on a lot of things, but it hadn't been because he needed to in order to just survive. And thinking beyond himself? Had he ever really done that or had he simply taken both his good fortune and other people for granted, accepting the life his parents had laid out for him without question?

The more he thought about how he had approached Finn after his Tai Chi exercise, the more Ben went from indignant anger to bewildered fretfulness. He wasn't sure what exactly he had done wrong, although the more he considered Finn's reaction the more he felt a bit like a greedy child who'd had his hand slapped for reaching for a prize he had not earned. He still didn't understand what the prize was, only that Finn had it and he wanted both of them so badly he could taste it.

Ben made one last check of his work, put away his tools, and collected the used parts and oil, setting them in the back of the truck. He climbed into the cab and sat behind the wheel, listening to the engine run as he meticulously recorded all the work he had done in a small pad. When he had finished that list, he thought for a moment, then began a new list with his notes on other major problems he had found which would need significant repairs fairly soon. When he had completed this last task, he tore out the pages and set them aside.

It was very quiet when Ben switched off the engine. He sat morosely, not even able to take his usual pleasure in a completed job. The late afternoon sun was slanting in, highlighting the front porch of the small dwelling. Ben leaned forward, placing his hands on the steering wheel where years of use had worn shiny indentations in the hard plastic. He stared at the house, his heart crying out for the man who had unknowingly captured it. He was still confused about what Finn had tried to tell him, this business of finding himself just not connecting in his mind, and he was uncertain if Finn would even be willing to have anything more to do with him after the way he seemed to dismiss him as too young and callow. In the end all he knew was that he couldn't walk away without trying to bring the situation between them to some sort of closure, clinging to a forlorn hope that this was not the end of his dream.

Slowly but steadily, Ben walked across the grass and climbed the steps of the porch. He held the screen open and for a very long moment stared at the door, one hand poised to knock. His heart was hammering and it was hard to breathe as he tried to force himself to tap the wooden panel, not knowing if Finn would even answer or if he would be summarily rejected. Finally he squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and rapped twice, quickly moving back.

Almost immediately the door opened and Finn stepped out onto the porch. His expression was wary and he held his hands a little away from his sides.

"Yes, Ben?"

Ben cleared his throat, but couldn't quite bring his eyes up. "You're all set on the truck, Mr. Finn." He offered his pieces of paper, then marched his words out in a monotone. "This is a list of the things I did, in case you need to talk to a mechanic about the work. And the rest is a list of other problems she has that you should get looked at fairly soon. I left the parts and old oil in the back of the truck. The oil will need to be recycled; if you want to bring it to Midway where I work I can take care of that for you, or any repair shop should be able to dispose of it properly."

"Thank you very much, Ben. I really appreciate it." Finn relaxed. He took the pages and skimmed the lists, then held them in his left hand. "Looks like a lot of work."

"It wasn't all that much. Here's the change from the money you gave me." Ben dug the bills and loose change from his pocket and held it out.

"Keep it. You did say you'd let me cover your gas."

"Uh, right, I guess I did. Thanks." Ben stuck the money back in his pocket.

There was another awkward silence.

"Mr. Finn..." Ben had to stop and swallow hard.

"Yes?"

Ben sneaked a peek upward. Finn's expression was neutral, but he needed to take this chance.

"Mr. Finn," Ben began again, "I've been trying to think about the things you said earlier... First, if I did or said anything wrong, I want to apologize..."

"Ah, don't worry about it, Ben. You couldn't have known how I might be reacting. There are some topics I'm too sensitive about and I probably overreacted myself." An apologetic bit of a smile flashed across Finn's lips. "I hope you weren't too offended by the things I said to you."

"No, well, at first I was, but then I realized you were trying to tell me some things I probably needed to hear." Ben scuffed at the wood planking with the toe of one boot. "Like I said, I've been trying to think about what you said, but I don't understand what I'm supposed to do about the sort of things you asked."

"There isn't truly a right or wrong thing to 'do'. Sometimes finding the right questions to ask is half the battle when you're trying to find yourself."

"But, you see, that's my problem right now. I don't have the foggiest idea what sort of questions to ask." Ben hesitated, bit his lower lip, then let it go and plunged forward. "What I really want to ask is if I could come back and if you would be willing to help me find some of those questions."

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea." Finn's eyes were hooded, his tone hesitant. "I may not be the right person for you to be talking to."

"At least just once? No obligations, no commitments?"

"I don't know..."

Ben looked up and threw away his last remnant of pride. "Please?"

There was a long silence as Finn studied Ben's face. "Well, I do owe you for the work you did." He tilted his head slightly, raised an eyebrow. "And I do have to admit it took something for you to come back and knock on that door."

Ben waited anxiously. He swallowed hard again as time seemed to hang suspended.

"You have to understand that if we do this thing, you probably aren't going to like the questions and you may like some of the answers even less," Finn said carefully. "Are you sure you really want to be doing this?"

"Yes, sir. I need to try to understand more about what you were saying."

"Alright, then." Finn nodded, thought for a moment. "Can you be here Saturday at nine in the morning?"

"Yes, sir, I'll be here."

"That will square us for the work you did on the truck. No other obligations, no other commitments."

"Yes, sir. I understand." Ben's heart sank at those words, but he took comfort in knowing that there would be at least this one chance to try to stay in Finn's good graces and take things a little further.

"I'll see you on Saturday then." Finn held out his hand.

Ben shook his hand gratefully. "Thank you, sir."

Finn nodded and stepped back.

Ben was all too aware of Finn's gaze as he put his gear on, then mounted Myrna. He rode away, still trying to bring some semblance of order to the chaos of his feelings.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Six §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A long aimless ride did not go very far toward helping Ben to settle himself. It was well after dark by the time he got home, so he fixed a sandwich and slipped away down to his room to eat it, telling Jane he wanted to finish reading a book that was due back to the library. He had the distinct impression she wasn't buying his story, but he simply wasn't in the mood to be with other people.

Ben spent most of the evening alternating between pacing around his room and lying on the bed trying to think. For almost an hour he sat at his desk, turning a tape of Finn's recordings over and over in his hands, unable to bring himself to listen to it. Finally he gave up trying to sort it all out, but then spent a restless night trying to decide if he was really as green and self-centered as Finn claimed or if that was even what Finn had meant. He woke early and groaned as he remembered that Frank had moved him to a Monday shift instead of his usual Wednesday this week.

The shop was relatively quiet that morning. Ben and Bobby were able to finish up the jobs on hand by eleven as Frank mostly stayed in his office doing paperwork. Ben was glad for the slow day; he was starting to feel the effects of his fitful sleep.

He checked his last service ticket and entered his code on the electronic tablet to signify completion, idly noting that Bobby seemed to have wandered away somewhere. Ben set the device on the seat of the motorcycle, then yawned and stretched, smiling a little as he watched the last job blink off from the big screen by the door.

"Kennan."

"Yes, sir?" Ben turned around to face Frank Mendoza.

"Sign off the system and ditch your coveralls. Mr. Jones wants to see you right now."

Ben's blood pressure shot up as he hurriedly logged out of the computer, then skinned out of the coveralls. Shit, he thought to himself as he tossed the garment over the motorcycle, what I have done wrong now? He hurried to follow Frank; he couldn't tell anything from the man's flat tone. Ben’s mind raced with all sorts of possibilities, most of them unpleasant.

They climbed the stairs to the second floor and headed down a hallway, where Frank opened the door to a small conference room. Ben's heart almost stopped as he stepped inside to confront an inquisition panel, or at least that was what it looked like to his fevered imagination. Dennis and Margaret Jones were seated behind a short table; Frank took his place at Dennis's other side. Along the wall to Ben's right sat Tony Carmine, who was studiously looking at the ceiling, and Bobby Torvald, whose gaze floated around the room.

As an icy knot grabbed Ben's gut, he felt his buttocks clenching and his breathing was far too loud in his ears. After the gentle but disturbing rebuke the day before by Finn, this was a heavy trial to his already precarious self-esteem. A frantic prayer to every saint he could remember kept running through his head, 'Please don't let them fire me', as he tried to keep his expression neutral.

Dennis Jones opened a folder on the table in front of him and studied it.

Ben recognized the application form he had filled out when he had applied for the job. The silence in the room grew heavy with anticipation as the owner continued to look at the papers. Ben bit the inside of his cheek to stay calm.

"Mr. Kennan," Dennis said. "You've been working here about two months, and it's high time we took a hard look at your performance and prospects."

"Yes, sir." Ben's spirits sank even lower at the cool tone.

"You know, we see a lot of young guys float through in this business. They stay a month or three, then get restless feet or grow tired of the work and they wander off. Especially these days, we see a lot of self-centered young people just out to make a few dollars and move on." Dennis tapped the application. "I certainly had some reservations about you at first. You seemed nice enough, but leaving school, all those odd jobs, moving around, and being a city boy out here in the woods... well, it didn't look too good. We needed the help at the time, so I went ahead and hired you despite my doubts. Now that you’ve been here a little while, I want to know about your intentions, young man."

Ben blinked. Intentions? What the hell did that mean? "Uh, sir?"

"What are your plans? Are you staying or going?"

"Oh." Ben's mind blanked for one panic-stricken moment, then his feelings took over. "Well, to be honest, I'm not sure how far ahead I was planning. I do like it here, and I've met a lot of nice people," he said slowly. "I appreciate the opportunity you've given me, especially everything I've been learning from Mr. Mendoza. I think..." Ben paused as a vision of Quilan Finn flashed through his head. "I want to stay... get involved in activities like the UPA..." He pursed his lips, then continued more surely, "I'd like to try to save some money until I can get in-state tuition rates and then go back to school and finish my engineering degree. I know I won't be able to afford full-time, so I'll need to keep working and take night classes."

"So you do have thoughts about your future?" said Margaret.

"Yes, ma'am. I know I want to work on motorcycles, maybe do some designing eventually or get into rebuilding the old bikes like Mr. Mendoza does. I guess I just hadn't really thought about the long term much until now, but this seems like a great place to settle. People have been good to me here, and I like the community, even if it's not the sort of place I was used to."

"How would you evaluate the work you've done while you've been here?" Dennis asked.

"I believe I've given you value for your money, sir. I know I don't have nearly as much experience as somebody like Mr. Mendoza or Bobby, but I think I've been getting better." Ben glanced at Frank. "I, uh..." Ben looked down at the floor, then back, before continuing. "Well, I did have a screw-up a couple of weeks ago, but that won't happen again."

Dennis and Margaret both looked over at Frank, who nodded slightly.

"Mr. Kennan, please step outside and wait," Dennis said.

"Yes, sir."

Out in the hallway Ben sagged against the wall. He closed his eyes as he took a couple of deep breaths. "Oh Jesus, they sure didn't look very happy," he muttered. "Maybe I shouldn't have said anything about that last bit. Damn, I don't know what I'm going to do if they fire me. I haven't been able to save much yet and I still owe Jane a lot of money." He chewed on his lower lip as he waited, his anxiety growing the longer he had to wait. He knew he had been working hard and thought he had been doing well since that day he had gotten chewed out, but perhaps it was all for nothing. His stomach felt sour and he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans several times. It seemed like an eternity before the door opened and Frank called him back in.

There was an air of tension in the small room that grated on Ben's nerves. He stood up straight and waited for the pronouncement of his fate.

Dennis tapped a finger on the folder in front of him, then tipped his head to the side. "Mr. Kennan, as you are probably aware, we have a VERY limited number of full-time positions available here in the maintenance department. Are you interested in taking one of those full-time positions as part of the Midway family?" He glanced to the side where Tony and Bobby were sitting.

"Yes, sir, I'm definitely interested," Ben said as a wave of relief washed through him, until he caught the careful emphasis that Dennis had put on the words 'limited number of positions' and 'taking'. Something odd was going on here, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He looked to his right and noticed that Bobby was sitting rigidly, a white-knuckled grip on the arms of his chair, staring hard at the floor.

Finn's question about looking beyond himself to take care of others came back and jabbed his conscience far harder than any of the dusty sermons he had slept through during all those years of being dragged to church by his parents. He realized Frank was wearing his blue coveralls but Bobby wasn't; an awful thought came to him and he had to speak.

"Mr. Jones, you said you only had a few permanent positions. I'd really like to work here full time, but if it means you need to let somebody else go I'm not sure I could do that." Ben swallowed. "I... I just wouldn't feel right taking somebody's job, especially if he's got a family to support." His shoulders dropped as he felt he had probably just talked himself out of the job.

"You're really telling me that it's any of your business who we hire and fire, Mr. Kennan? I know you need the money, so why should you care?" Margaret asked, a cynical tone cutting into Ben's funk.

"No, ma'am, I didn't mean to sound like I have any say about your business, not at all," Ben said. He chose his words carefully before continuing. "It is my business who I choose to work for, though. You're right, I was down to nothing when I got in town, and I do need the money." He looked at Margaret, then at Dennis. "But I also need my self-respect. I'm sorry, but I'd feel bad about pushing out somebody else who needs the job even more than I do."

There was a heavy silence for a long moment. It was finally broken by a triumphant crow from Bobby Torvald.

"Yeehaw! Pay up, Tony." Bobby held his hand out.

"Hey, best ten bucks I ever lost," Tony said with a smile as he reached for his wallet.

Ben stared at them, his confusion clear on his face. "What's going on here?"

"Sorry about that, but we needed to know what sort of person you really are," Dennis said.

"You’re not zooing me? You're not going to let Bobby go if I take the job?"

"Of course not. Bobby asked to cut back his hours here so he could go work at that Ruger's place. He was just putting on that little act so we could see what you were going to do."

"Yeah, the wife's been bugging the hell out of me to work someplace closer to home ever since we moved to that new house way up north of town." Bobby had a big grin on his face.

"We are offering you a full-time job, but let me explain a couple of things before you decide so you know what you're getting into, Ben," Dennis said. He too had a smile on his face. "The way it works, our full-time people are core members of the Midway family. That means we look out for Midway and for each other and we look to you to help the rest of the part-time and non-permanent staff. First off, there is a one year probation period. You do well during that year and we send you off to training. You're guaranteed at least forty hours a week, and there will be occasional overtime depending on what is going on.

"Next week on the first of June we'll be going to seven-days-a-week operations for the summer, so you might end up working any days of the week. You'll still be working directly for Frank; he'll set your schedule and assignments. There will be some days you'll be asked to help Tony on the show floor, and you'll be part of the crew to support exhibits at things like the county fair and the 4th of July roundup. You'll get your own set of coveralls and Midway shirts. When you're wearing Midway gear, I expect you to stay out of trouble and not do anything stupid that will reflect badly on Midway. You got any questions?"

Ben was still trying to take it all in, a rush of happy adrenaline leaving him a bit breathless, but one comment did catch his attention. "I'm not sure I understand what I'm supposed to do for Mr. Carmine, sir. I don't really know much about sales."

"Sometimes customers like to get real technical about the bikes, and I don't always have enough knowledgeable guys to cover everything," Tony said. "And I want you as my mechanic out there 'cause you got a nice personality and a nice ass."

"What?" Ben spluttered a bit as he felt a flush start to creep up the back of his neck.

"Come on, kid, don't tell me you've never noticed how the girls look at you, and the older women, too, the way you sashay around in those black jeans." Tony had a big smirk on his face. "People like you, you got that cute grin, you look cool on a motorcycle, and you can talk the tech side. If I could pry you away from Frank, I'd have you out there full time." He shrugged. "You gotta think about that kind of thing, even though nowadays you're not allowed to talk publicly about it; it's just one of the realities of dealing with people when you sell stuff."

Ben's face was now burning from embarrassment as he looked around and realized that everyone was grinning. Even Margaret was struggling to keep a straight face. He wasn't about to admit he'd never paid much attention to what women saw in him because he was too busy looking at other men and how they filled out their jeans.

"Don't worry, Ben, I'm not about to let that sleazeball get his hands on you," Frank said. He threw a good-natured obscene gesture at the head salesman. "If he had his way, he'd probably put you in a set of leathers and plant you on a motorcycle in the display window, and I'm not about to lose a good mechanic to that sort of nonsense."

"Thank you, sir," Ben said fervently.

"So, back to the big question, you want the job or not?" Dennis was still smiling.

"Yes, sir. I'd like that very much. I'll work hard, you'll see."

"I'm sure Frank will take care of that part." Dennis stood up and came around the table. He held out his hand. "Welcome to the Midway family, Ben." He shook Ben's hand.

After Dennis, everyone else in the room came up to shake Ben's hand as well. Tony winked at him, and Bobby slapped him on the back.

Frank reached under the table and placed a box on top. "These are for you, Ben."

Everybody stopped to watch as Ben went to the table and opened the top flap. He pulled out a set of four black t-shirts with the Midway logo on front and back, a set of two polo shirts with the logo on the back and on the pocket and two Midway baseball caps. He reached down into the bottom of the box and pulled out a brown paper parcel. He put it on the table and unwrapped it, revealing two sets of royal blue coveralls. He held one up; above the left top pocket the words "Midway Motorcycles" were embroidered, above the right pocket the italic block letters spelled out "Kennan." Ben stared at his name, unable to speak.

A hand on his shoulder caused Ben to look up.

"Most people would have just jumped at the job and screw the next guy, but I felt like you'd do the right thing, so I went ahead and got these made," said Frank quietly as he squeezed Ben's shoulder, then let his hand fall.

"Thank you, sir. God, this is just so wicked pisser I'm not sure what to say."

"Just keep doing good work, Ben, and let me know if you ever need any help."

"Yes, sir, I will."

"Ahem," Margaret cleared her throat noisily. "If we are quite finished with the lovefest, there is work to be done. And don't forget we have a team meeting at one-thirty."

Everyone else started heading for the door, even Dennis, who grinned and muttered, "Yes, dear."

"Come down to my office and we'll get your paperwork done. You can bring those along."

"Yes, ma'am." Ben quickly stuffed everything back in the box and followed Margaret to her office.

**************** ***************

Ben was still a little overwhelmed as he sat down in the hard-backed visitor's chair in Margaret Jones' immaculate office. This was the first time he had been in here; one of the admin assistants had taken care of him when he had been hired. He took the employee handbook she gave him, then watched as she pulled out a folder with a large stack of forms. She also turned her computer monitor so Ben could see the screen.

"We'll start from the top and work our way down. Unfortunately, we still need hard copy signatures for a lot of these, but I'll be using electronic forms for as much as I can and we'll keep scanned images of all the hard copies. If you have any questions about the information or the changes due to becoming full-time, please ask." She picked up the top paper and handed it to Ben. "This is your terms and conditions of employment; take a few minutes to read it and let me know when you’re ready to sign. I'll be checking each item off on the master checklist as we go through everything."

Ben read the document while Margaret worked on some other files, noting terms like permanent employee, probationary period, flat rate vs. hourly pay, overtime, reasons for dismissal. It was a more detailed form than the one he had been given as a part-timer and he raised an eyebrow at one of the items.

"Uh, ma’am, is this right that I could actually be fired for just about anything?"

Margaret put her pen aside and looked up. "Not quite, but the law in this state gives us a fair amount of leeway, especially for probationary employees."

"What exactly is included in 'moral turpitude'?"

"Aside from purely criminal activities like robbing a bank, the MT includes things like rape, bigamy, perjury, drug peddling and molesting the cattle."

Ben blinked and tried to hide the quirking at the corners of his lips. Was it possible that the Iron Lady (as she was often called behind her back) had a sense of humor?

"Don't laugh, Mr. Kennan. There have been several cases of cattle molesting, and other livestock, prosecuted in court in this state," Margaret said matter-of-factly. She looked at Ben speculatively for a moment. "If you're worried about private sexual relationships, as long as it's fully consensual, your partner is of legal age, and you don't get caught engaging in something idiotic like doing it in the town square at high noon, then it doesn't matter what color, race, religion or sex the other person is. And we don't tolerate any hate activities or discrimination towards other employees or especially toward customers about those things either. If nothing else, it's bad for employee relations and bad for business." She raised an eyebrow. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"No, ma'am. Absolutely not." Ben breathed a huge figurative sigh of relief inside his head. If Margaret said there would be tolerance and diversity, then it was a given that that was the way it would be at Midway Motorcycles. "I believe very strongly in those principles, ma'am." He quickly scribbled a signature on the page and handed it back.

"I do realize that there are still some realities of life when it comes to how people react to each other," Margaret said dryly. "For example, that is why we recruited a woman for the sales staff and also why we ask all the people who interact directly with customers to learn at least some basic Spanish if they do not already speak it. Tony did put it rather crudely in his remarks, unfortunately; if that bothered you, I shall require him to apologize."

"No, it's fine, ma'am. I just wasn't expecting it, and I know he didn't mean anything derogatory."

"Very well, this form is about your pay. Full-time employees are paid hourly, same as part-timers. You’ll get paid even if there are no jobs in the shop, but we also expect you to help out wherever else you're needed for those forty hours. You have less than a year of experience on the books and no certifications or degrees, but you are permanent, so you'll start at ten dollars an hour. Overtime is fifteen. You'll get a performance review every six months, when you'll be eligible for potential pay raises. Instead of the very limited benefits you had before, you will now get the full set of benefits. Here is the list of the holiday, sick leave, personal leave and community service hours policies. It’s not very many days initially, but you'll be eligible for leave increases at three years, seven years and so on, and you can either carry over or request pay for 25% of your accrued leaves for the year if you don't use them."

Ben smiled as he reviewed the form, then signed. He was quite pleased with the pay increase; even if he got no overtime it was still almost two dollars an hour better and for a full forty hours. And the paid leave was a definite improvement. Maybe now he could finally afford something other than bologna or peanut butter sandwiches for lunch.

They went over tax forms, OSHA forms, the increased entitlements for employee discounts for parts, supplies and accessories and rules for personal use of the shop facilities. Margaret explained about the benefits package Midway had through the regional small business consortium and pointed out the sections in his handbook which covered the details of those.

“I don’t need your decisions on the benefits right away,” said Margaret. “Any questions so far?”

"No, ma'am. I'll have everything back to you next week."

"That will be fine. The final form I want to go over with you is this financial worksheet so you don't have any big surprises in your first paycheck. The figures are based on a full two-week pay cycle with a standard forty-hour week, since you're starting at the beginning of a new pay period."

Margaret went through line by line: salary, taxes, social security, potential insurance, etc. Compared to Ben's previous pay, it was still a nice number on the bottom line even after all the deductions.

"Now, the last thing I need is where you want your pay sent."

"I don't get a check anymore?"

"We strongly encourage our permanent employees to use electronic payment. Do you have a bank account?"

Ben shook his head. He had grown used to living off cash this last year and hadn't gotten away from that yet, even if it was sometimes inconvenient trying to find a place to cash his paychecks.

"If you're going to be staying, you need to establish a proper financial situation," Margaret said firmly. She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a card. "Stop by the Alborn bank and see Muriel Tejada. Tell her I sent you." She initialed the card and handed it to Ben. "She will set you up with a checking account, savings account, major credit card and online checking and bill paying."

"I'm not sure I..."

"Nonsense," Margaret interrupted. "You need to establish a financial record, a credit card is a basic necessity in today's world, and with the online access you can get to your accounts from anywhere in the world. Besides, your money is a lot safer in a bank than it is sitting in your pocket. We can cut you a check this first time, but I want to be able to start the paperwork for the electronic funds transfer by next week."

"Yes, ma'am," Ben said meekly, bowing to the elemental force-of-nature that was Margaret Jones.

"That should be everything. I'll have copies made and you can pick them up this afternoon. Any questions?"

"You had mentioned a team meeting at one-thirty. Am I supposed to go that?"

"Normally you don't have to attend, but we'll be going over a new project and the summer schedule, so we'll want both you and Bobby there. It will be in the big conference room."

"Yes ma'am, I'll be there."

Margaret sat back in her chair and looked at Ben for a moment. "Frank Mendoza thinks quite highly of you, Mr. Kennan. He's the one who wanted you brought on permanently." She paused. "But you understand that EVERYTHING that goes on in Midway is important to me."

"Yes, ma'am. I understand." Ben didn't have to have it spelled out that the 'everything' included him.

"Good." Margaret stood up and held out her hand. "Welcome to Midway."

**************** ***************

Just before one-thirty, Ben followed Bobby into the larger of their two meeting rooms. He had reluctantly shed his blue coveralls at Frank's direction due to the expectation of an outside visitor at the meeting, but had donned his black Midway t-shirt instead. Dennis, Margaret, Frank and Tony were at the long table; they had been joined by Karen and by Greg, Margaret's primary assistant for finance and legal affairs, and Jocinda, Margaret's other key assistant for facilities and technology.

"Ok, let's get started," announced Dennis. "The first thing I would like to do is welcome Ben Kennan as our newest permanent employee." There was a brief round of applause. "Now I want to go over our plans for upcoming events."

For almost half an hour they discussed the move to the seven-day-a-week operation, staffing changes with seasonal interns in various departments and some regulars who came back each year to work part time as mechanics or salesmen, and business projections. There was a short review of the financial status, advertising efforts and major summer events. Ben was impressed with the efficient flow of information and spirited exchange of ideas; it was clear that these people worked together well and there was little wasted time.

At a quarter after two there was a knock on the door, followed almost immediately by the entrance of a short, bull-chested man with black hair in a crewcut.

"Hello, Tank. Have a seat. We were just wrapping up," said Dennis. He finished handing out the list of events Midway would be attending or sponsoring, then pulled a large folder from his briefcase.

"Okay. Tank, you know Margaret and Frank." Dennis introduced the rest of the people in the room. "I'd like everyone to meet Tank Sanchez, director of Ruger's Wilderness Wheels. We've been working on a potential joint venture to help both of us. I'll let Tank give you his overview."

"Good afternoon, and thanks for having me here. Can I assume that you are all familiar with Ruger Ranch and Ruger Base Camp?"

There was a general nodding of heads.

"Great. Well, a few years ago the Ruger board of directors decided to expand into a new area. For years the Forest Service has been pretty adamant about off-road vehicle restrictions in the Keo. I can't really blame them, what with the politics and the eco people always on their case, but it's meant that there's been a lot of demand building up for a while. Ruger used land on the other side of the Ranch from Base Camp, setting up a support building and a network of trails for a new business unit called Ruger's Wilderness Wheels, renting ATVs and dirt bikes and charging admission to use the trail system. During the winter they offer snowmobiling. It started off fairly well, but the first director had a heart attack three months after it opened. The second director tried to take some shortcuts with maintenance and safety and there were some incidents with customers. He was fired and I came in four months ago to try to clean things up. I think Wheels has a good profit potential, but there is still a lot of fixing needed. I kept hearing about Midway and what a clean bike operation you guys have, so I came to see Dennis and Margaret to see if there was a way we could help each other." Tank turned to Dennis.

"We've been checking out a number of things we think might be feasible," Dennis said. "First, Tony and Margaret have been looking at the market for off-road vehicles, and we think that could be useful for both sides. They've identified several models of dirt bikes and ATVs that should do well with the consumer base in this area. We anticipate that permanent residents would be interested in these for use on the ranches and farms in the area. Town and university people would want them for recreational use, which would give Ruger's a steadier base for repeat business from usage fees for their trail system."

"Mrs. Jones and I checked out several markets where the demographics and geography are similar, and we believe there is a high probability for success if we go about this properly," Tony said. "As new product lines, I've also gotten initial offers from a couple of manufacturers who will give us some good incentives to bring their machines in. We can move first with the dirt bikes as it's taking a while to get the details on possible ATVs worked out. Unfortunately, Harley doesn't really have what we want, but we already carry quite a few different used bikes, so it's not going to be that big of a change to add a new type. We wanted to avoid competition with the Kawasaki dealer up in Danville, so we've got an excellent deal almost ready to go for a range of Honda models with street-legal kits, off-road accessories and parts."

"I've verified the legal and licensing requirements for the state, and we can easily handle adding that to our customer services," Margaret added. "I've also set up a draft for Ruger's and Midway to do mutual advertising and for our staff to provide assistance with the licensing and procurement processes."

"From the maintenance side, that is something we've looked at for both of us," Frank said. "Ruger's still has quite a backlog to clear up and I've strongly recommended they revamp their whole repair and logistics support processes, including safety checks before and after every vehicle is used and the periodic checks they should have been doing on the machines they own. Bobby has worked on just about everything that has wheels and he ran the maintenance program for a couple of big motor pools when he was in the Army, so he would be a great match for them. He's agreed to go to work four days a week full time at Ruger's as their senior staff mechanic, and he will still be working for us two days a week for a while to help train the interns and part-timers." He turned to Ben. "Have you ever worked on dirt bikes or ATVs?"

"Only a little," Ben acknowledged, "but I'm a pretty quick study and I don't mind staying after on my own time to get up to speed."

"Good," Frank said. "One of the applicants for the summer intern program has a lot of experience with dirt bikes already and both Ben and I should be squared away in pretty short order, so I don't anticipate any start-up problems being able to support maintenance for anything we'll be selling."

"The maintenance and support infrastructure is going to be more difficult," Dennis said. "Tank, I believe we've established that what you've got now just isn't working?"

"Yeah, that's been kind of a fiasco," Tank said, shaking his head. "They had brought in a consulting firm from Denver to build the network, and they've never gotten the damned thing to work properly. You can't get to the right data to fill in forms, half the forms don't work like we want them to, and the system crashes too often. We finally fired them a few months back, but now I've got this mess to try to deal with."

"We've got an excellent system here," said Margaret. "It ties together maintenance, inventory, admin, sales, facilities, and customer records applications from a central database. Took us two years to get everything fully worked out, but we've been very happy with the results from the standpoint of both cost savings and improved efficiencies."

There were several nods of agreement. "I worked at a couple of the really big dealerships in Chicago several years ago, and it's as good or better than anything I ever saw in their maintenance or parts departments," Karen affirmed.

"So the thought was that perhaps it might be possible to use our system as a basis for a new Ruger system with the addition of modules you'll need for the rental and trail usage portion of the business," said Margaret.

"Well, that could be a problem," Jocinda said carefully, looking up from where she had been doodling on a scratch pad. "And we could have a big problem of our own as well when it comes to updates for our system. I had a call this morning from Tyler Technologies, the people that built our network and applications."

"I know they finished moving out to San Francisco a few months ago, but didn't they agree to renew the maintenance and updates?" Margaret asked.

"We thought they were, but Dev Tyler himself called me. He was very apologetic, but it seems they've gotten some big new contracts at the same time they lost two of their key programmers and they just don't have enough staff to support everything. He offered to try to find us someone else to help out before the current contract expires in August." Jocinda looked very dejected. "I'm only a sys admin and network tech, Mrs. Jones. I can keep what we do have running and handle the routine stuff like security patches and such, and I could upgrade the network. I'm not a programmer, though, and I just don't have the skills it would take for any significant upgrades of our own applications, let alone modify the whole thing for what Ruger needs."

"That's alright, Jocinda. You're good at what you do, including the rest of your job with the buildings and physical security, and we appreciate that. But I guess it looks like we do have a problem coming up pretty shortly," Dennis said. "I'm afraid that puts a crimp in what we were planning for you, Tank."

There was a gloomy silence as everybody looked at each other.

"Umm, could I make a suggestion?" Ben asked diffidently. He had stayed quiet until now, not wanting to stick his nose into a place he had no experience with.

"I don't suppose you program computers in your spare time?" Frank said with a vague attempt to lighten the mood.

"I'm afraid not, sir," Ben said with a fleeting smile. "I was just thinking, though, that you could check with the university and see what they might be able to do."

"And just what is it you think they might be able to do?" asked Margaret. Her tone was skeptical.

"I know they have undergraduate and graduate programs in computer science, and they do co-op projects with a lot of groups. I found out about them because of the work they're doing for the UPA program; it sounded like a pretty big job and from everything I've heard it is supposed to be going well and is ahead of schedule." Ben ducked his head. "It was just a thought."

"Hey, you know, that might not be a bad idea," Tony said thoughtfully. He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. "We've always gotten some pretty good people from the university's engineering and business programs for interns and co-ops, even part-timers in reception. We've got to do something, so it might be worth at least looking into. We can always check out whoever else Dev wants to recommend."

There was a vigorous discussion for several minutes, which Ben was more than content to simply observe.

"Alright, everybody, here's what we're going to do," Dennis said. "Tank, we're going to move ahead with the rest of the plan for maintenance support, advertising and all that. Margaret and her staff will work with you on the details. Tony, firm up the initial order for the dirt bike package so we can get the contract signed. For the business and maintenance computer system, Jocinda will get a list of companies from Tyler and start checking them out. Margaret, can you contact the computer science people at the university and set up a meeting with them?"

"Certainly," Margaret nodded. "Ben, do you have any points of contact out there?

"Not directly, ma'am, but I'll give you Sandy Miller's personal office number at UPA. I'm sure she will be happy to get you in touch with the right people."

"Good. I think that about wraps up what we can do here for the moment."

Dennis nodded. "Okay, folks, thanks for your help. Let's get to work."

**************** ***************

Ben rode home that evening in a euphoric haze, his dilemma about Quilan Finn and his damned questions temporarily set aside. Bobby had caught him in the employee restroom just before closing, admiring himself in the mirror in his blue coveralls, and had joked that he must be planning on taking them home to sleep in them. Ben had blushed a bit because that thought had actually been in the back of his mind, at least the wearing them home part. He had laughed and quickly removed his new uniform to put it on a hook in the lounge near his new bigger locker with his name stenciled on it, instead of being written on a piece of tape. Nothing, however, was going to get him out of his new Midway t-shirt.

As he turned into the long driveway, Ben found himself following Cynthia Vernon's station wagon. He parked in the garage as she was backing into the carport, then headed into the kitchen. Jane and Tammy were sitting at the kitchen table chatting.

"Good evening," said Ben, a big grin on his face. "I've got great news!"

"So do I," called Cynthia as she came in from the front. "Let's hear yours first." She set a small suitcase down and leaned against the counter with a smile.

All three looked up expectantly as Ben stood up straight, sticking his chest out a bit to emphasize the logo on his shirt.

"Ladies, you are now looking at the newest full-time employee of Midway Motorcycles. I started the new schedule today, minimum forty hours a week guaranteed, a pay raise AND full benefits."

There was a loud chorus of congratulations, a round of hugs, admiration for his shirt and how nice he looked in it. Ben's grin grew even wider as he basked in their genuine happiness for him.

"You had something good to tell us, too, Cynthia?" Ben asked as he belatedly remembered her comment.

"Oh, just a little something that came up this morning," Cynthia said modestly, but there was a light shining in her eyes that betrayed her elation. "You all remember Ricky?"

There were several nods and affirmations.

"We were staying at his parents' place these last two days, and I thought it went pretty well." She paused to reach in her pocket and pull out a small box. "In fact, it must have gone really well. This morning Mr. Enrique Hernandez proposed to me, and we're going to get married this fall." She opened the box to reveal a silver ring with a small diamond surrounded by rubies.

There was an even bigger round of squeals and hugs, Ben happily joining in. Everyone had to admire the ring several times and hug her again, exclaiming over the wonderful news. Finally the excitement began to run down.

"All this good news calls for a celebration," Jane announced. "I'm taking everyone out to eat. Where shall we go?"

Ben deferred to Cynthia, claiming he would be happy to go anywhere, and she finally decided on barbecue. Tammy offered to drive, so they piled into her car and drove off.

Later that evening Ben was sitting at his desk, comfortably stuffed with generous servings of brisket, ribs and chocolate cake. It had been a lovely evening, although Cynthia had apologized repeatedly for the fact that she planned to leave in a few weeks to go back to stay with her parents. They lived less than an hour away from where her fiancé was moving because of his recent promotion, and she and Ricky wanted to get a head start on house hunting and wedding preparations. Jane wished her well and told her not to worry about it.

All the talk of family had turned Ben's thoughts toward Maureen and her rapidly approaching graduation from Harvard. He pulled out a notepad and began working through some numbers. A half hour later he sat back dejectedly.

"Well, shit, this just isn't going to work, is it?" he muttered.

He looked at his list again: current monthly rent, the rest of the security deposit and back rent he still owed, motorcycle insurance that would be expiring soon, an unknown amount for vehicle registration and driver's license for Wyoming, his one good pair of boots that were wearing through, food, gas and the service for Myrna that he had already put off far too long. His first new paycheck would kick in two weeks from now, but it still wouldn't be enough to come anywhere close to covering everything on his list, let alone a plane ticket home. He knew Jane probably wouldn't mind waiting for her money, but some of the things couldn't wait much longer, and he hated the thought of asking Jane to let him slide even more than she already had.

Ben stared gloomily at the list for quite a while, then sighed and leaned forward, head in hands. For once, he was keenly feeling the impact of not having the kind of money that he had taken for granted growing up. Eventually, he sighed again.

"Screw it, I'm going to bed."

The new shirt was carefully hung on the back of the chair. Ben ran his fingers over the logo a few times, but his joy at the promotion was tempered by his frustration, knowing that the job was only a start on getting him wherever he was going.

At work the next day, Ben kept thinking about Maureen. He decided he at least wanted more than just a dry email to let her know how he was doing.

At lunch Ben took off his coveralls and went out to the showroom. It was quiet except for two of the sales team. He went over to Tony's desk. He knew the sales manager was a bit of a gadget freak and might be willing to help him.

"Mr. Carmine?" Ben asked hesitantly.

"Hey, you're one of the family, call me Tony now," he said with an expansive smile and a wave of his arms. "So what can I do for you?"

"Well, I was just sort of wondering what the policy is on maybe getting a picture with one of those cameras you use for the advertising and promo shots? I don't want to do anything I'm not supposed to, but I was hoping I could get something to send to my sister."

"No problem, Ben. It's all digital, so it doesn't cost anything for film. What kind of shot you want?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to screw up right after I got promoted," Ben said. He glanced around, concerned that the omniscient Margaret might be charging in.

Tony looked at him, shook his head. "If you're worried about that, we'll use my personal camera. I just got another new one and I want to try it out anyway." He unlocked a desk drawer and pulled out a small silver camera not much bigger than a deck of cards. "Ten megapixels, still and movie shots, even audio," he said proudly.

"That would be great, if you don't mind," Ben said. "How about something in front of the store, and maybe one in the maintenance bay?"

"Why not the whole place?" Tony thought for a second. "Tell you what I'm going to do. We've got a half hour, so first I want to get a couple of still shots out front with you, and we can follow that with a movie. We'll start from the front, move in through the showroom, past Karen's place, then into the maintenance bay. You can put on your coveralls, tell her about what you do. After that, a big finish with more stills back out front with you on your motorcycle by the big logo. I'll pull all the files off the camera onto my laptop computer so you can email them. How's that sound?"

"That would be wonderful," Ben said. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem. It'll give me a chance to see how well the camera really works. Let's go."

For the next twenty minutes Tony was in production mode, gleefully playing movie director and photographer. After they were finished shooting, he put all of the digital files on his personal laptop, then fired up his wireless connection and insisted that Ben email everything right then and there. Ben thanked him profusely and went back to work.

Later that evening, after supper, Ben put his name and time on the kitchen phone log and dialed the number to Maureen's cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Maureen, it's Ben. Can you talk for a few minutes?"

"Brenda! It's good to hear from you."

"No, it's Ben."

"Right, definitely we must talk. Are you still at that last number you gave me?"

"Yes."

"I'll call you back in a few, dear."

Ben heard a muffled comment about 'girl talk' and 'other room' before the connection went dead. He hung up the phone and waited, wondering just what was going on.

Jane turned around from the counter where she was mixing up bread dough. "Why don't you go ahead and take that in the other room? I'll be busy here for a while."

"Thanks." Ben hurried into the family room and sat down by the side table holding an extension phone.

It was closer to ten minutes before the phone finally rang.

"Hello?"

"Ben?"

"Hey, it's me. It's good to hear you. I wanted to call and ask if you got the emails I sent earlier today."

"It's great to hear from you, too. And yes, I did. Those were some pretty nice pictures and I loved that little movie. So that's the place you've been working?"

"Yes, Midway Motorcycles. One of the guys there took all the pictures for me. I wanted to let you know I've been promoted to full-time now with a pay raise and benefits and everything."

"That's wonderful, Ben. I am so happy for you. I know it hasn't been easy, but I hope things are finally looking up."

"It's been getting better. There have been some very nice people here, and I'd like to stay on. In fact, I've been thinking about going back to school next year after I can qualify for in-state rates. I know it will have to be part-time courses, but I intend to finish my degree and then see what I want to do after that."

"Ben, that is great. I am so proud of you, little brother. That is truly fantastic."

"Speaking of college, uh... well, I'm afraid I won't be able to make it back for your graduation. I really wanted to be there, and I'm sorry I just can't swing it right now."

There was a brief silence, and Ben was almost afraid they'd been cut off.

"Ben..."

"Is something wrong?"

"Look, I appreciate that you want to be there, but I have to tell you that it's better if you don't try to come."

"It's Father, isn't it?" Ben asked bitterly.

"I'm afraid so. He's definitely going to be there, you know how he is about making points with his cronies about this kind of stuff, and there would be quite a nasty scene if you showed up. He took down all the pictures, got rid of everything in your room, and it's gotten to the point that now he doesn't even allow your name to be mentioned, even for Lars to make his stupid snarky comments. That's why I had to come up to my room and lock the door to call you back. He's gone totally overboard with this crap."

"Well, I guess there isn't really anything I can do about it." Ben gave a weary sigh as he slumped back in the chair.

"Ben, he's the one being an asshole about this, not you. I still love you, and you know if you ever need any help, you just have to unstick that stubborn pride of yours long enough to ask."

Ben laughed. "Thanks, I guess I needed to hear that. I love you, too." He paused. "So, how's everything else been going? How'd you come out on final exams?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Seven §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The last week of May was turning out to be a memorable and busy one. Ben was still buzzed about his promotion to full time and was settling into his new schedule. He had enjoyed talking to Maureen on Tuesday evening, although it had dampened his spirits to be reminded of his father's attitude toward him. Tony had surprised him Wednesday morning with some very nice prints from their photo shoot, and Sandy Miller had called to invite him to a session at UPA for Thursday evening.

The first couple of summer hires came in on Wednesday; the mechanic intern with dirt bike experience turned out to be a pleasant young woman who had done extensive off-roading with her brothers. Ben had gotten a glimpse of her contact information card and at lunch, she quietly informed him that if he ever again attempted to call her Matilda instead of Mattie, she would rearrange certain of his body parts into a new configuration. Ben had grinned and replied, "Yes, ma'am," which had earned him a dirty look. When he realized she was in the mechanical engineering program and not just general engineering, he decided to make an effort to cultivate her to find out more about the program.

The pace of business was picking up as regulars started bringing in bikes for servicing before the summer riding season kicked in and the first waves of summer visitors started hitting town. Frank had also managed to obtain copies of the manuals for the new vehicles they were ordering, so between jobs Ben began studying the books.

On Thursday Ben made it to the Alborn Bank on his lunch break. Muriel Tejada turned out to be another version of Margaret Jones, only with silver-blonde hair tied back in a bun and dark red lipstick. Margaret's card got him into Ms. Tejada's office immediately and also apparently satisfied any questions that she might have had about Ben's financial solvency, despite the fact that he had only brought the magnificent sum of eighteen dollars to deposit. Once he had filled out the forms, she had him out of her office in less than ten minutes with temporary checks and network password in hand, and a promise that he should be receiving his credit card within two weeks.

Thursday evening found Ben at the UPA offices; Armand was giving an introductory class on the control room equipment. Ben enjoyed himself a great deal and committed to coming back to learn more. He had a nice chat with Sandy, who gave him a big hug when he mentioned his new work status. He found that he was definitely starting to enjoy this hugging business, despite the scarcity of such things in his former life.

By four o'clock on Friday afternoon, Ben was ready to call it a week. Frank had made a point of stopping to chat with him when he had handed out the schedules for the following week, letting him know he was off until Monday but would probably be working quite a few weekends in July and August, and discreetly inquiring as to whether Ben had any religious objections to that sort of schedule. They also talked a little about the support requirements for the Fourth of July roundup, which was a four-day holiday fair where Midway always had a big exhibit. Ben tossed a copy of one of the new manuals into one of his panniers as he left, intending to do a little reading over the weekend.

It was still early, a nice warm evening, by the time Ben and Jane finished a simple supper of salad and baked chicken. Cynthia and Tammy had left earlier for a party that some of their girlfriends were throwing for Cynthia.

"That was very good. Was that a garlic marinade?" Ben sat slowly sipping the last of his iced tea.

"Garlic, cumin and olive oil. It's a recipe I got from one of the ladies at church."

"It was nice."

There was a companionable silence for a moment.

"It's a beautiful evening," said Ben. "After I do the dishes I'm going to take a walk up the back way, maybe sit for a bit."

"A good time for some thinking. Seems there's been a lot happening for you lately."

Ben looked at Jane, reflecting that this woman seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing when something was going on in his head. He nodded.

"You can take the girls if you like. They'd probably like the exercise."

"I didn't think they were particularly fond of me."

Jane laughed. "They're dogs, Ben. Tiger is one thing, he's a fiercely independent little beast and just doesn't like men in general. The girls are really pretty simple creatures, though. They think of you as part of my pack, dear, and they're quite ready to like you if you feed them or play with them."

"Alright, I'll take them along." Ben smiled as he cleared the table at the thought of the seemingly mild-mannered Jane Brandon as a fierce pack leader, although on second thought, he decided that perhaps that was not such a far-fetched thought for this resourceful and resilient woman. He found he rather fancied the idea of being in her pack, actually.

"Sitting outside sounds like a nice idea. There are no boarders in the barn to care for tonight, so I think I'll take some knitting out on the back porch for a while."

Ben nodded, then made quick work of the cleanup. He took a last look around the kitchen before going outside to the yard.

"Dexy! Delilah! Come on, girls, let's go for a walk."

Jane smiled at them as the dogs bounded around Ben. There was a solid wooden fence enclosing a very generous back yard with shade trees, picnic tables and a brick barbecue pit; it started at the back corners of the house and each end wrapped around to an edge of the converted barn. Ben let himself and the dogs out the side gate, then headed up the dirt road that ran along beside the house and fence and wended its way through the back part of the long rectangular lot, which included the bulk of the forty acres. He glanced at the snug little shed which housed the backup generators for the house and barn; this side of the barn was blank, the external dog runs all on the other side. As they passed the end of the barn, he could see part of the heavy woven-wire fence surrounding the extensive garden plot. Ben wandered through the woods for half an hour, the dogs racing about back and forth. They crossed a small stream into a large sunny clearing where Ben decided to settle down near the edge of the grass.

Ben had been so busy and distracted all week that he had not really had time to think seriously about Quilan Finn and what might happen on Saturday morning, but he could not put it off any longer. He relaxed against the trunk of a large tree, letting himself enjoy the warm late-spring evening as he tried to decide where to start. He quickly realized that it was not a quiet evening: birds and insects sounded off, there were rustlings in the woods and the dogs lapped noisily in the stream. Within a few minutes, he also decided that he still didn't understand Finn's love affair with the stupid forest; it might be pretty, but the ground was hard under his rear and the rough bark dug into his back. He was wiggling around trying to get more comfortable when the dogs came trotting over and flung themselves down, both of them trying to crawl into his lap.

"Hey, hang on, dammit. There's not room for both of you."

The two Rottweilers stared at him mournfully with their deep brown eyes, tongues hanging out.

"Oh Jesus, alright, alright." A thought struck him. "Hell, if we're all in Jane's pack, let's get comfortable together." He pushed Dexy over to lie on her side, then lay down, using her for a pillow. Delilah stretched out beside him, resting her head on his chest.

"That's better." He shifted a bit, then wrapped an arm around Delilah and relaxed.

That minor distraction didn't leave him any closer to figuring out what was going on in his head.

"Tell me, Delilah, is Quilan Finn the love of my life? Is he the soul mate I thought Neal Delaney was supposed to be?"

The dog gave a soft whoof.

"Yeah, I got it that bad..."

Ben's voice trailed off as his thoughts wandered. From the time he had first heard that wonderful voice on the radio, he had been lost. And he had just kept getting sucked in deeper with every contact until his need was bone-deep. He had learned the hard way that he had to separate that ache from the rest of his life, but it never left him now.

He wasn't entirely sure just what it was that drew him to this man with such fierce intensity. Clearly there was the huge initial tie to the amazing opportunity for a second chance at love, after what his younger self had melodramatically persuaded him was a soul-shattering loss. And there were the initial similarities between Neal Delaney and Quilan Finn, of course; both men were strong, sexy and passionate about their dreams. Where Neal had been flamboyant, though, Quilan Finn didn't seem to have that urge. He exuded a self-confident but low-key power and a disarming charm that seemed to attract people to him like bees to honey, but he didn't go out of his way to advertise or try to draw attention. And his touch! Ben's cock stirred at the memory of those few times he had been able to have physical contact. It had been an electric feeling that shot through him and sent joyful hormones careening, a feeling he had only been able to fantasize about with his former instructor.

Ben shivered a little, licking his lips at the thought of the bliss that getting into those pants would be. Delilah whined, nudging the hand that had momentarily stopped scratching behind her ears.

Ben looked down. "You're right. I've probably got an icicle's chance in hell of ever getting him anywhere near my bed." He sighed. "So where does that leave me?"

It leaves me with a jagged hole in my heart, Ben thought. I don't understand it, but I've never wanted, no, needed anyone quite the way I need this man, not even the good Dr. Delaney. I can't have him, but I can't imagine being without him. I've read about platonic love, but can I really live with that if it's the only way I can be near him?

A cool breeze whispered across the clearing. Ben shivered again, this time from a cold dose of reality as he admitted that it was not looking very likely that he was going to have much choice in the matter.

Ben's thoughts reluctantly turned to his last encounter with Finn. That visit had started out so well and turned out so dismally. After going over and over the words that Finn had said to him, Ben still had mixed feelings about the incident. He was happy that Finn had said that he liked Ben, but he didn't understand a lot of the things Finn had pushed him on. He strongly suspected that he must have been dragging around a lot more emotional baggage than he had ever realized, but he hadn't found the key to the luggage yet and he wasn't entirely certain he really wanted to force some of it out into the open.

Then, of course, there was the other jolt this week; that point-blank question about his future plans in front of what he still thought of as the inquisition panel. He couldn't think of a moment when he had felt so completely lost and helpless, and he knew that first horrible instant would be forever etched in his memory. The words that had come out after that, though - those words felt right. Whatever destiny had drawn him to this place was another thing he still didn't understand, but he did like it here. It wasn't just about Quilan Finn. Even before he had heard that magic voice, Ben had started to feel a connection to his new home and to some of the people, as well as a soothing of pains he hadn't fully acknowledged he owned. And he did want to put some direction in his life; he'd never truly been forced to deal with the question of his future until now. For most of his life he had followed the path that others had laid out for him. Since leaving home, he realized that he'd simply been drifting, trying to bury thoughts of his past and not worrying about what was in front of him. Ben sighed heavily.

"Is that part of what he was trying to get me to see? That it was high time I got my head out of my ass and started making sense of what's going on in my life?"

Delilah looked up at him, slanted her head and raised one eyebrow. A rustling in the trees caught the attention of both dogs, and Ben suddenly found himself lying on his back alone. He stood up and brushed himself off.

"C'mon, girls, time to go home."

As Ben thought about the very real possibility that the next day might be the last time he was invited back to Quilan Finn's home, the plangent twang of an electric guitar resounded in his head. The refrain of an old Nazareth song kept cycling through him as he slowly walked down the dirt track back to the house.

"Love hurts..."

**************** ***************

After another restless night, Ben woke with the dawn but found it difficult to stir. He lay in bed for quite a while, his thoughts flitting aimlessly. It was almost eight o'clock before he dressed and went upstairs.

"Mmmm, that smells good," Ben said as he was assaulted by the aroma of a fresh bake.

"Just finishing some breads and muffins for the swap meet this morning," Jane said. She handed him a lopsided muffin. "Here's an extra for you."

"Thanks." Ben set it on the table, then went to fetch milk and cereal from his store in the garage. Sitting at the table, he ate his breakfast while watching Jane pack the baked goods into plastic boxes.

"Any plans for this weekend?" Jane asked.

"Just for this morning," Ben answered. He scrambled a moment for a safe way to discuss his intentions. "I'm going back out to Quilan Finn's place to see how the repairs on his truck are doing... maybe try to talk him into teaching me Tai Chi. He's very good at it."

"I imagine he would be," Jane said a bit absently. She paused, looked over her assortment of goodies, then swiftly pulled out a few muffins and set them in a brown paper bag along with napkins. She set the bag on the table next to Ben. "Take these along. It will help your cause. There's blueberry, banana nut and lemon."

"I can't take those," Ben protested. "You need them for your swap meet."

"They are all irregulars in size or shape so they'll be slow to sell. You may as well get some good from them."

"But... you did all the work." Ben shook his head. "You already do so much for me... I can't just take them."

"Then make yourself useful," Jane retorted. "Tomorrow morning is my turn with the Garden Club. They're bringing the rototiller and several loads of manure to finish the other two-thirds of the plot. Since you missed the earlier trip a couple of weeks ago, you can help shovel manure this time if it will make you feel better."

"Oh... well... alright, I can do that," Ben said. He didn't mind working, but that certainly wouldn't have been his first choice of task.

"Truck will be here at six in the morning." Jane added some chocolate nut muffins to the bag with a mischievous grin. "It's a big truck," she added in response to Ben's raised eyebrow.

"Yes, ma'am," Ben replied with tepid enthusiasm. "Aren't you going to church tomorrow?"

"The good Lord understands that you have to get the rototiller when you can." Jane gathered her boxes. "I'll be having breakfast at five-thirty if you want any." She headed out the door to the garage.

"Yes, ma'am," Ben muttered after her. He decided that Jane must share certain devious characteristics with Sandy Miller when it came to getting people to do work. On the other hand, he did owe her a lot, and the lovely aroma lingering in the kitchen suggested that it might be a helpful enticement in his impending discussion with his sexy forest ranger. In the end he just shrugged and finished his cereal.

**************** ***************

Promptly at nine, Ben pulled up behind the battered truck and parked. Butterflies were swirling madly in his stomach as he took off his gear and deposited it on Myrna's seat. He retrieved his bag of muffins and stood looking uncertainly at the house for a disquieting moment as it occurred to him to wonder if the etiquette out here really allowed for guys to bring muffins to another guy instead of something macho like beer, but Jane had obviously thought it was fine, and he finally decided that Finn didn't seem the type to go in for 'manly man' conventions anyway. He took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders and marched up to the front door.

Ben knocked twice and waited.

"Around the side," called the voice he had heard so many times on his CDs and tapes.

Ben quickly walked toward the sound. Finn was sitting at the picnic table, an open laptop computer in front of him, tapping on some sort of document with a pen. A large thermal carafe with two mugs and a shaker of sugar was at the end of the table.

"Hey, good morning," Ben said as he advanced, bag in hand.

"Good morning to you," Finn replied. He took off his glasses and set them down, then slid the computer to the side as he stood up and came around the end of the table. He put a hand out. "I wanted to thank you for that work you did on the truck. It's been running a lot better since then."

"Just some basic fixes, really. She's still got a bit of life left in her if you take care of her." Ben let himself enjoy the firm handshake, a warm glow suffusing his soul as Finn smiled at him and let the grasp linger a bit. A pang of loss swept through him as he regretfully released the hand.

"Would you be wanting some tea?" Finn asked as he sat back down at the table. "I'm afraid I don't usually have coffee around."

"Tea would be great," Ben said. "My landlady sent these along, too." He pulled a couple of napkins from his bag and emptied the contents onto them. "I live down cellar at Jane Brandon's place," he added.

"She'd be a widow with a big barn?"

"That's her."

"I remember when she helped out providing a place for some of the injured animals after the last big round of fires. Nice woman," Finn said. He poured two mugs of tea, then took a bite of muffin. "And an excellent cook too, I see. This is marvelous."

"She is a good cook, and a very nice person. She took me in when I first got to town and had hardly any money left, then helped me find a job."

"So how have things been getting on for you since then?"

"Mostly pretty tight, but I had the part-time job and I did a lot of odd jobs for some of Jane's friends, so I've been surviving." Ben added a generous helping of sugar to his mug and took a sip of tea. "Actually, I wanted to thank you for making the effort last week to try to get me thinking about things. I was pretty pissed off for a while, and I still haven't sorted things out very well, but at least one of the things you said has already helped. Monday at work they were grilling me about what I wanted to do and had it set up to look like I would be taking this other man's job if I accepted a full-time position." Ben paused, took another sip of tea, looked down, rubbed at a spot on the table. "I knew he had four kids... oldest is in college, the other three are still at home, and his wife's had a couple of bouts with cancer. What you said about looking outside yourself to help others kind of hit me like a ton of bricks, and I realized I would feel bad about taking his job away. I told them I just couldn't do it, and it turned out that was the kind of reaction they were looking for. So I got the job, full-time with benefits and all."

"That's very good news, Ben. I'm happy for you." Finn finished his muffin and reached for another.

"Anyway, I just wanted to thank you." Ben finally looked up, a brief smile sliding across his lips.

"You're welcome." Finn drank some tea. "These muffins are fair wonderful. You should have some." He smiled. "If nothing else you'll be saving me from the temptation of eating them all myself."

Ben nibbled on a blueberry muffin. He nodded toward the laptop. "Working on a project?"

"A little something for UPA." Finn pointed at the stack of paper. "They don't have a very big music archive except for standard stuff, so our darling Sandy collects the requests that come in for music and passes the lists out to volunteers who have private music collections. There's quite a bit of Irish, Scottish and folk music I own, so I check the list to see what I've got. 'Tis easier to use the computer so I can just search against my directory files that one of the people at work helped me set up. If I have enough matches, I'll add in some of my own choices to make a full one or two-hour show, give the whole list to Sandy and she'll set up a time when I can bring everything in and record."

"You like working with UPA?"

"Aye, I've enjoyed it a great deal. They have a lot of good people doing some good things. I'm thinking you'll like it if you're serious about joining the crew."

"I plan on it. Armand had an interesting class on the control system this week, and I'm looking forward to learning more."

Finn nodded and poured himself another mug of tea. It was quiet as both men finished eating.

Ben cleared his throat. "So, I guess I should also be thanking you for letting me come back out." He fiddled with his mug, not quite able to meet Finn's eyes. The butterflies that had quieted in his stomach erupted back into full flight.

"Ah, yes, I did promise to have a chat with you, didn't I?" Finn cradled his mug in both hands on the table. "If I'm understanding things properly, this started when you saw my Tai Chi routine and wanted to learn more about something the popular philosophizers probably call 'inner peace'?"

"It seemed like there was more to it than that, I think," Ben said tentatively.

"Well, depends on what you are really looking for, I suppose." Finn took a slow, deliberate sip, then put both hands around the mug again, this time with his elbows bent. "For me, Tai Chi is one of the disciplines I have explored as part of a life-long search to try to find out who and what I am. It has helped me to learn to focus, to reach inside myself. It's not been an easy task, especially as I've changed and grown during my life." He looked steadily at Ben for a long moment before continuing. "A lot of people are perfectly happy with their lives, either just letting things happen or settling for a few goals. Are you sure you really want to be stirring things up with more questions?"

"You've already stuck a spoon in the pot and started it going," Ben said, looking directly at Finn. "If you didn't mean for me to do anything about that, then why did you bother? You could've just said no and ended it right there."

"A fair question, and one I'm not sure I really have a sufficient answer for yet." Finn took another sip of tea, then set the mug down off to the side. "You were looking rather lost and bewildered in a cute-puppy-dog sort of way." He smiled as an indignant expression crossed Ben's face. "But there was something else there as well... you seemed like someone who could become much more than you are now. I thought you might be a person who wouldn't be content to just let life happen to you, and maybe a little poke might get you to thinking about that."

"It was more like a kick in the ass than a poke," Ben said, a bit miffed about the 'puppy dog' remark.

"Got your attention now, did it?" Finn raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir." Ben paused a second. "Except I've been trying to sort it out and now I'm more confused than ever."

"Right, then I suppose I can sharpen the stick and get a bit more focused." Finn leaned forward, forearms flat on the table, all levity suddenly gone. "You need to be remembering that all I can do is offer you some questions to think about; the answers you'll need to be finding for yourself. I'm not some kind of therapist or your priest. I'll ask you again: Are you sure you're really wanting to do this?"

"Yes, sir, absolutely." Despite the seriousness of the topic, Ben just had to smile at the picture of Quilan Finn in a cassock. He would certainly look a lot better in it than most.

"And just what it is you're finding so amusing about this undertaking, Mr. Kennan?" Finn glared.

"Sorry." Ben ducked his head. "I couldn't help thinking that you are a hell of a lot younger and better looking than the majority of the priests and nuns I grew up around."

"I'm guessing you spent a fair bit of time in Catholic school, then?" Finn had a ghost of a smile now.

"Yes, sir. The local place through the ninth grade and then I was packed off to boarding school. Is it that obvious?"

"You are habitually about two orders of magnitude more polite than a lot of these self-centered louts I seem to encounter on my job these days."

"That would be Sister Ursula's doing. She was six feet tall, ramrod straight and at least a zillion years old. You did not graduate from her first grade class until every other word out of your mouth was 'Yes, sir', 'No, ma'am' or 'Please, sister, may I be excused', and the habit just stuck. I have always suspected at least half the children in that class had nightmares about her for years. Even though they had already gotten rid of corporal punishment, she always had several rulers prominently displayed on her desk."

That finally drew a snort of laughter from Finn. "Blessed saints, I know the type." He drained the last of the tea in his mug, then poured another cup. "Just remember, you were the one asking for this. You don't have to answer any of the questions if you don't want to, and if you want, or need, to stop at any point, it's up to you to tell me. Is that clear?"

"I understand."

"Shall we get started?"

"Yes, sir."

"Give me your driver's license."

Mystified, Ben quickly complied, leaving his wallet on the table. He waited while Finn studied the card.

"Do you consider yourself to be a good person?" Finn's eyes were still on the license.

"I suppose so." Ben thought for a moment. "I don't break the law, do drugs, smoke, or cheat people, and I don't drink much."

"You think of yourself in terms of the things you don't do?"

"Umm... I like to stay busy, and work... is that what you meant?"

Finn ignored the question. "Who are you?"

"Ben Kennan, of course."

"Benjamin Kennan of Boston is who this card here says you are." Finn held the license up.

"No." The flat, vehement answer surprised Ben.

"No?"

Ben sucked his lower lip in between his teeth, then let it slowly slide out. "Benjamin is the person my father tried to create... that is not who I am or who I want to be."

"How many children are in your family?"

"Three. Lars, Maureen and me." Ben felt an inadvertent twitch when he mentioned Lars' name. "As the first son, Lars was always the favored one. He was a right bastard." He couldn't prevent the disdain that flavored his tone. "Maureen and I always got along pretty well."

"Do you get yourself to church?"

"I used to, but not in a long time." Ben shook his head. "You had to do the school stuff, of course. My parents usually went at least once or twice a month and dragged us along. I stopped going as soon as I could get away with it. Except for Christmas and Easter, of course, you would have had to have been on your deathbed to get out of those."

"So you don't think of yourself as religious, or as having any particular faith?"

Ben wasn't sure where these questions were supposed to be heading, but Finn had maintained an air of disinterested neutrality the entire time. He decided to keep going. "I probably tend toward agnosticism, if anything. Churches, or at the least people in them, just started to seem too hypocritical; it eventually got to where I didn't feel anything there I was comfortable with."

"Did you have a lot of friends?"

"I suppose so." Ben shrugged. "I was able to get along well with most people."

"Did you have fun growing up? Run around, play games, enjoy yourself?"

There was a short silence.

"You don't understand what it was like," Ben said slowly. "My father was a big corporate lawyer and very particular about his 'place in society'." He gave a humorless snort. "You learned to do the 'proper' things. Until I was twelve, everything I did was programmed. Golf, tennis, sailing and swimming were mandatory, as were bridge, piano lessons, table manners, how to dress, how to do small talk, all that sort of thing. I didn't know any different, so for a long time I thought that was how life was supposed to be."

"What changed for you when you were twelve?" Finn took a sip of tea.

Ben sat back with his arms crossed and shoulders hunched. He dropped his head forward and looked sideways as he took three slow breaths. "When I was twelve, I guess I was finally considered civilized enough to make myself useful," he said distantly. He glanced up under lowered brows. "I became the fill-in. Benjamin, we need a fourth for bridge. Benjamin, Aunt Sadie needs a doubles partner for her tennis party. Benjamin, take my friend's younger daughter to the dance at the club." He finally straightened up and dropped his arms with a sigh. "Boarding school was less than an hour away, so even there I used to get calls or emails during the week. Benjamin, take the train in, we need somebody to fill in for golf, for the party, or whatever."

"Do you have a sense of humor?"

"Uhmm..." Ben was caught off guard by the change of subject. "Definitely. And I like being with other people who have a good sense of humor." He gave a small smile. "I suppose I do tend toward the irreverent. I've been called a smartass on a number of occasions."

"Have you ever sat yourself down and given serious thought to how your humorous comments might have affected other people?"

Ben's smile died as he remembered some of his more juvenile pranks and jokes. "No, sir, I guess not," he said quietly. He dropped his gaze to the table.

"Were there things you did enjoy when you were growing up?"

"Yes," Ben nodded. "I liked learning things in school, hanging out with my sister... when I got into engines and motorcycles, that was really good." He hesitated.

"I'm thinking there was something else, wasn't there?"

"You'll just think it's 'posh'," Ben muttered. He shifted a bit on the bench.

"Try me."

"I got tired of tennis, so I tried some other activities. I didn't really like the team sports and although I picked it up quickly, the martial arts stuff was really more of a fad, but I got very excited about fencing."

"That's not posh. I've studied sword and staff, so I know how much work it is to do it well." Finn smiled a bit, the first sign of emotion he'd shown since he started the questions. "Did you do it well?"

"Eventually, I did become quite good," Ben said, no false modesty coloring his words. "My senior year, three of us went to the state tournament."

"Seems like your parents must have been proud of you, then?"

"They were usually too busy to come to most of the things *I* was doing." Ben sighed. "Maureen talked them into coming to the tournament, though... in a way I wish she hadn't." He fell silent.

"What happened?

Ben swirled the tea in his mug, took a small sip before slowly setting the mug down. "I was pretty pumped when they showed up. I was really on, just ripping through." He paused. "I made it to the final. Every time I looked up into the stands Maureen was cheering, but my mother just looked bored and my father was always talking to someone or on his phone. After I won, he showed me off to his friends, making points with them, like I was another entry in his resume. I felt... used." Ben toyed with the handle of his mug. "I chucked the trophy in a closet and haven't touched any kind of sword since."

"Why do you call my truck 'she'?

"Because that's what she is," Ben said, much happier with this question than the last few. "She's got a personality of her own and you have to understand that to work with her."

"Are you more comfortable with machines than people?"

"I don't think it's a question of more comfortable... it's just different." Ben pondered for a moment. "I like people well enough, I suppose, but there's a different connection with a machine." He smiled. "I'm not sure how to describe it... it's like I can reach in and see how to make it work properly, and we both feel better if I can fix things. There's an energy there, a synergy and harmony of a kind I rarely seem to get with people." He looked up and noticed that there was a hint of a grin peeking out from behind the hand Finn had put in front of his face. "Hey, are you laughing at me?"

"Sorry. No, I wasn't," Finn said. He shook his head. "I was just thinking how much that sounds like the way I feel about the Keo; I'm always feeling so much more alive when I'm in the middle of the forest."

"Umm... right."

"Anyway, that would be a totally different discussion." Finn took a sip of tea as his mask of neutrality resettled itself. "Is there anything you've been missing since you left home?"

Ben sighed, they were back to the hard questions. "I miss my sister... and Boston was a nice place, great seafood, a Dunkies on every corner, riding the T, stopping for grinders and a frappe during the summer... lots of things to do..." His voice trailed off aimlessly as he thought about his answer.

"And?"

Silence for a moment.

"Alright, I miss the damned money... " Ben shifted his gaze around, looking anywhere but across the table, "the things you could do with money... and the things you don't have to do if you have money."

"Did you love your family?"

"Love?" Prepared for a defensive response about his last answer, Ben was caught off guard yet again by the sudden change in topic. He stared blankly for several seconds, then swallowed. "Except between Maureen and me, that wasn't a word you heard much in our house." He ran his tongue along the inner edge of his bottom teeth a few times as he thought. "Duty... and responsibility. Follow the rules and be a good boy or else." He shrugged. "You just had to learn to suck it up and deal."

"What is your worst personal trait?"

Right hand splayed on the table, fingertips tapped as Ben shifted his weight on the hard bench. He stared down at the table as he tried to decide on an answer. "I guess... " He remembered his last phone call with Maureen. "It's probably pride... I'm stubborn, too, but sometimes that can be a good thing."

"Who were your role models when you were growing up?"

"I'm not sure I really had any." Fingertips had gone from tapping to rubbing abstract patterns on the wood. He had immediately flashed back to an image of Neal Delaney, but the professor as a role model? He hesitated as one finger traced out the faded grain of a plank in the tabletop. Ben suppressed a sigh; no, definitely not someone he thought of as a role model and definitely not someone he was going to mention in this conversation. He turned to safer ground and finally replied, "Maybe my fencing coach for a while... or I guess it might have been the guy who taught me how to work on motorcycles one summer. They were both good at challenging you to do better while being patient about teaching you things."

"Since you left home, is this the longest you have stayed in any one place?"

"By quite a bit. Most of the time I was just sort of floating around from place to place, a few days here, a week or two there. I don't really have any idea how I ended up here."

"Why do you stay?"

Fingers stilled as Ben thought. "The obvious answer is the job, I suppose. I had finally run out of money and needed to work." He looked at Finn, tilted his head a bit. "More and more, though, I think I like the people. I've met a lot of nice people who are different from the types I grew up with." He smiled a bit. "It's kind of strange... I'm only renting a room at Jane's house, but it's starting to feel more like home than the house I grew up in. I guess that's a little hard to explain. I like doing work around the place, but she quietly does more for me and doesn't demand things in return. There's not a bunch of rules and 'thou shalts'."

Ben's eyes were unfocused as he searched for words. "I can give you an example about the way I've been feeling. When I was young, my father gave me a cell phone with the stipulation that I had to call home if I was running late or had a change of plans. So I called because I knew I would be punished if I didn't. Jane Brandon is just my landlady, but when I had to work late unexpectedly, I went out of my way to find a phone to call her because I knew she would worry about me." His smile got bigger. "And when I came home and told everybody about getting promoted to full time, they all hugged me. And Sandy hugged me when I told her." His gaze fell to the table and his smile turned pensive as he finished softly, "That felt really good."

The questions continued with barely a pause, leaving Ben little time to linger on any one thought. "Do you believe 'tis better to give or to receive?"

Ben straightened and confidently answered. "To give, of course." There was a tiny touch of triumph upon having gotten the obvious answer correct.

"Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do?" Ben was confused again. "Isn't that why people tithe to the church, and give to charities, and help with the poor? It's a win-win situation ... you get to help others and feel good about doing it."

"Do YOU prefer to give or to receive?"

"Ummm..." Fingers started tapping again. "To give," Ben said weakly.

"Why?"

The knot that had been threatening suddenly tightened in his gut as Ben leaned forward. Both hands were on the table, the heel of his right palm rubbing against the edge of the wood. "I like to be independent. Having to accept charity..." he muttered, his head dropped. "It's like you weren't good enough to make it yourself." It was an uncomfortable truth.

"Is that what you really believe?"

"That's just how I feel." Ben squirmed, wishing they could move on to a different topic. He suddenly felt small and guilty, something else he'd have to figure out eventually.

"Have you done anything in your life you are particularly proud of?"

Ben breathed a sigh of relief as he straightened. "Earning the money myself to buy my motorcycle. I didn't use a single penny from my parents." He looked at Finn. "I know I had everything else provided for me, but I thought I was doing something good, trying to prove a point, I suppose. I worked out everything... what kind of bike I wanted, how much money I needed for the extra stuff like insurance, waiting until my eighteenth birthday to get the motorcycle endorsement added to my license so I wouldn't need my parents' signatures on anything." He sighed. "That started out as such a wonderful day. I had the bike on hold; first thing in the morning I got my license, then I went to the dealer and did the rest of the paperwork. God, I felt good riding her home and thinking about how I was going to surprise everybody."

Memories of that beatific trip were all too quickly displaced by those of the horrific aftermath. Ben's face fell as he leaned forward again, resting his forearms on the table. He stared down at the table.

"What happened when you got home?"

"I guess you could say I was the one who got surprised." Ben kept staring down, feeling the knot in his gut twisting itself around. "My father was manifestly not impressed. It seems that motorcycles are a tool of the devil, ridden only by sordid young hooligans of low breeding and no class. And going behind his back to display my craven indifference to proper standards was a gross sin."

Ben rubbed one hand against the back of his neck as he took a deep breath, then slowly let it out as his hand dropped back onto the table. "I didn't get very many words into that discussion. He even threatened not to pay for college; I think if I hadn't already gotten early acceptance into some of the schools he had insisted I apply to, he might actually have done it. The upshot of that conversation was that he realized he couldn't legally do anything about the bike, but he refused to let me park her anywhere near his property. The relationship pretty much just kept going downhill after that. Whenever I was home, he got worse about finding fault and he didn't even pretend to stop Lars from being snide and hateful."

Ben felt himself tightening all over. He grabbed the mug and held it rigidly in his right hand. "It took until the end of my second year of college, but it finally got to the point where things completely fell apart. I couldn't toe his line any more. There was a last hellacious row and I was out of there."

Ben hunched down, his knuckles white around the mug, as he waited miserably for what he knew would be the next inevitable question. He hated to be a quitter, but he didn't think he could talk about what had really caused the final rift.

Silence stretched as Finn drained the last of his tea, his expression almost bored. He set his mug down deliberately before speaking.

"What sort of work did you do to earn money?"

"Work." It took Ben a moment for the unexpected query to sink in. He lifted his head, off balance and searching for an answer. "I, umm... well, I was pretty good at a lot of subjects, so during the school year people used to pay me to help with tutoring; the ones who didn't want their parents to know how badly they were doing paid particularly well, always in cash." Ben gave a small moue of distaste.

"My parents encouraged me when I wanted to work summers, something about idle hands and the devil... that's where I got a lot of the money. Some of it was office stuff, clerking, computer records and such, but when I was fifteen, I had a good job at the summer estate of one of my father's friends. I was supposed to be helping keep up the pool and grounds, and filling in when they wanted somebody to play tennis or bridge, but I also got to spend a lot of time with their maintenance man learning how to fix small engines on stuff like their mowers and boats."

He thought for a moment. "The best job was when I was sixteen and seventeen. Maureen was going with a guy who was an assistant manager at a car dealership and she talked him into giving me a job. Ostensibly it was in the office, but the parent company had a motorcycle shop on the same block. I'd leave home wearing a nice shirt and tie, but once I got to the car dealer's, I changed clothes and went over to work in the motorcycle maintenance department. I learned a lot there and had a chance to try out several different bikes. They liked my work enough the first summer that they asked me to come back again the next year with a raise, which felt really great. All the checks came from the parent company so nobody was any the wiser."

"What did your father think of that?"

"I suppose he probably wouldn't have approved if he had known." Ben had finally relaxed a bit, but had not relinquished his grip on the mug.

"So you were just a shifty little dodger sneaking around behind your parents' back."

"Huh?" Where did that come from, Ben thought. The knot of tension in his gut tightened hard.

"By your own admission, for years you were lying, sneaking around, not going to church."

"No, it wasn't like that." Anger surged through Ben at the sudden attack. "How can you lie to somebody who never bothers to ask how you're doing, who never once came to any of the places where I was working, who never cared how I felt about anything."

"Bollocks. It was your place to be a dutiful son, but it doesn't sound like you were being a very good son a'tall."

"I put up with his fault-finding and nit-picking for years." Ben's voice was rapidly rising as he stood up. "I worked my butt off trying to please him."

"It's sounding to me more like you must have been quite a disappointment."

"Me a disappointment? What about him? He was more concerned about himself and his image than anything else." Ben was shouting now as long-pent-up feelings exploded. "He used people and was always spouting his pious hypocritical bullshit to make himself look good. He used me like he did everybody else." Ben raised the mug and smashed it down. "He used me until I wasn't useful any more, and the son of a bitch threw me out of his house like a fucking piece of trash." He was trembling with anger. "He screamed at me that I was no son of his. He said... he said I should never have been born..."

Ben collapsed with a sob, his head buried in his hands.

Finn was instantly around the table, stepping close behind Ben, putting his hands on Ben's shoulders and rubbing them. "It's alright, Ben, it's alright," he soothed.

For several minutes Finn stayed with Ben, continuing his ministrations as the young man gradually recovered his composure. Eventually, he sat down on the bench near Ben, leaning back, his elbows propped on the table.

Ben sat miserably, head in hands. It was bad enough that he'd had his nose rubbed in several faults, but he felt stupid because he still didn't understand the point of many of the questions, and he had just made a total fool of himself in front of the one person he'd wanted desperately to impress.

"Ben? Are you alright?" Finn asked softly.

"Not really," Ben mumbled. He paused. "I'm sorry."

"What is it you're feeling you need to apologize for?"

"I lost my temper, I broke your property... I just totally lost control." He raised his head, dragged the back of his hand across his nose. "I guess you must think I'm pretty pathetic."

"No, what I'm thinking is that you've been bottling up a lot of pain inside. Sometimes you need to haul it out into the light of day instead of letting it fester like an infected wound. I do know that's not an easy thing to do and can take a very long time to clean out the wound, but you've at least made a start on it today." Finn put a hand on Ben's arm. "I'd guess that you also have some foolish notion that men aren't supposed to be having emotions."

"Looks like I wasn't really dealing with things as well as I thought," Ben admitted. "And yes, self-control was pretty much the mantra where I grew up." He took a ragged breath. He was still crying inside, but he forced himself to speak, although the words came out haltingly. "Mr. Finn... I realize you've done more for me than you needed to... I appreciate that, even if I haven't reacted to it very well. If you want me to leave... I'll go away." He stared straight ahead as his breath hitched, then bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep tears from erupting again as Finn pulled his hand back.

"Tell me, Ben, do you believe in yourself?"

"I guess I need to do some rethinking about that. I think I've tried to be a good person, but I've not really had any point to my life." Ben glanced sideways for a moment, then looked back down. In a low voice, he said, "I want to be a good person. And I want to find myself."

"So what are we going to be doing about that?"

"We?" Ben shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"How hard are you willing to work to try to get yourself figured out?"

"I would do whatever it takes." A faint glimmer of hope fought for survival as Ben shifted to face toward Finn.

It was very quiet as Finn looked across the clearing, slowly drawing a deep breath, then letting it out even more slowly.

"Mr. Ben Kennan, I do not claim to even remotely understand what it is that I'm finding so compelling about a person I have barely met, but you are inspiring me to ask a few questions of my own to myself. I would normally never consider embarking upon this sort of craziness, but if you're still wanting me to help you work on finding what's inside you, I am willing to give it a try."

"You're serious?" Hope flared from a glimmer to a blazing torch as Ben almost stopped breathing.

"I am quite serious." Finn swung one leg over to straddle the bench and leaned close, blue eyes boring into Ben. "This is not an endeavor to be walking into lightly. In many ways I am not terribly conventional and I'll freely admit I've not got a blessed notion yet exactly how we might be wanting to go about this. I can tell you that I am not going to stop asking questions and that you are probably going to be finding much of this trip boring, frustrating and/or painful. And I'm warning you right now I have very little patience for whiners, dossers or quitters. If I make this commitment, I expect an equal commitment from you."

"Yes, sir. I will work hard; you have my word on that. I'm not sure I'll be able to answer all the questions, but I'm willing to keep trying." Ben paused, swallowed hard as he sought the right words. "I would consider it a great privilege to be allowed to accept whatever help you are willing to give me."

Finn straightened, a small smile on his face. "Well, perhaps there is some hope for you if we can at least teach you to accept help with grace." He leaned sideways, one arm on the table. There was a thoughtful expression on his face. "Right, I think that now we're both going to be needing some time to reflect for a bit, but we should get back together soon so I can figure out where to start with this job. What is your work schedule like this week?"

"Monday to Wednesday I'm on from seven to four, and Thursday to Friday I'm on from ten to seven."

"Alright..." Finn pondered for a moment. "The first thing we should do is a little evaluative work, and some sorting of ground rules. Are you in good shape?"

"Yes, sir. I do some running and weight-lifting a couple of times a week."

Finn raised an eyebrow. "We'll be seeing about that. I have to leave Thursday afternoon for a week of back-country patrol, so we need to start at four o'clock Thursday morning. Bring your running gear. We'll be doing some more runs later also, but most of our work will be in this area." He waved a hand around the clearing.

"Four?" Ben's voice went up at least half an octave, but Finn was looking steadily at him and he quickly regrouped. "Yes, sir, no problem. I'll be here at four on Thursday morning." He bowed his head briefly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Ben looked around the open grassy space into the looming forest, then smiled and snorted.

"Would you care to enlighten me about what you're finding so amusing about this adventure, Mr. Kennan?"

"I was just wondering how many trees I was going to have to hug, sir." Ben managed to scare up a faint grin.

Finn stared at him for a moment, then grimaced. "Jaysus, you are a smartass if you can come up with a joke like that after what I just did to you." He shook his head and sighed. "May the saints have mercy on us both, for I think we're going to need it before this is through."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Eight §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The sun was still rising toward noon when Ben finally left. He set Myrna running and rode aimlessly down long country roads for several hours while his emotions went for a roller coaster trip. Exhilaration peaked periodically every time he remembered he would be getting to see more of Quilan Finn, but his emotions quickly spiraled downward again as he recalled the questions and answers that had preceded that welcome news. He knew he couldn't blame Finn for his own breakdown; he had begged the man to let him come back and be grilled, and Finn had done his best to oblige.

"And a very damned good job he did, too," Ben said to himself. He hit a long open stretch and gunned the engine, letting the wind buffet his body until he encountered some light traffic heading into a small town. He motored sedately through the settlement, resuming a more moderate pace as he left.

Looks like I've got some heavy thinking to tackle, Ben thought. I always told myself I was handling everything so well, that I had things under control no matter what was being thrown at me, but it looks like I was just burying things inside without really dealing with them. And some of the other things Finn was dredging up, I don't understand all of that yet, but I think I must have learned more bad habits when I was young than I thought, even though I used to look down on the self-centered society types.

Myrna's steady rumbling roar gradually brought Ben down to a more even keel. He thought back to Finn's parting words. He had just shrugged into his jacket when Finn had put an arm around his shoulders.

"Ben, I know you have a lot on your mind right now." Blue eyes were dark with concern.

"That's an understatement." Ben sighed, his feelings in turmoil despite the welcome warmth so close to him.

"We can work through your issues, but it's going to take some time." The pressure tightened. "Promise me you won't do anything foolish in the meantime."

"I don't think I understand." Ben looked up into Finn's face.

"A lot of people have trouble handling the kinds of problems you've uncovered with your feelings about your father. They get caught up thinking there was something wrong with them, but I hope you are more level-headed than that. I just don't want you doing something stupid like getting drunk and running that motorbike of yours off a mountain road."

"No, sir, I won't do anything like that. I'll admit I don't feel so good about myself right now, but I do want to work through it." Ben thrust his chin out, a determined smile on his lips. "I'm not going to let my father ruin any more of my life than he already has."

"Good boy." One last squeeze by that big hand. "You take care of yourself, and I'll see you on Thursday."

"Thanks. I'm looking forward to it."

Ben remembered looking back as he headed slowly down the driveway and seeing Finn standing watching him. They had each raised a hand in farewell as Ben was moving out of sight.

Hugging the warmth of that last encounter inside him, Ben suddenly pulled off to the side of the road. He sat for a few minutes, Myrna purring quietly. He reached down and gently patted her, then turned around and headed home.

**************** ***************

Ben shivered as he carefully eased Myrna out of the garage and down the darkness of the driveway. Even in this first part of June, it was still chilly at three-forty in the morning, and he was grateful for the warmth of his leather jacket and chaps over his sweats. He wasn't big on the alleged splendors of sunrises at the best of times, and he sincerely hoped this pre-dawn start time wasn't going to be a regular occurrence.

A light shining on the front porch revealed a lanky form seated on the front steps. Finn rose as Ben parked, waiting as Ben pulled off his riding gear.

"Good morning to you," Finn said quietly. He looked closely at Ben's face. "How have you been doing?"

"Sunday I worked all day on Jane's garden, shoveling cowshit, digging and planting," a fleeting smile, "and I've been pretty busy at work, so I haven't really had time to think too much." Ben paused, staring down. "I have had a little trouble getting to sleep at night." He sighed, looking at Finn. "I remembered what you said, about not thinking the problems were all my fault, but it's just not that easy."

"No, it's not going to be easy, and this is going to take some time for you to come to terms with your feelings. If you want, we can talk some more when we finish."

Ben nodded. "I'd appreciate that."

"Let's be getting started, then." Finn lightly touched Ben's shoulder. "Did you eat before you left?"

"Yes, sir, I grabbed a sandwich." Ben shivered a bit.

"Good." Finn smiled. "Don't think about the cold; we'll have you warmed up soon enough."

Ben made a noncommittal grunt as they began doing some basic stretches.

"Alright, we're going to see what kind of legs and wind you've got." Finn retrieved two flashlights from the porch and handed one to Ben. "We'll be heading out on a back road through the woods first, then circling back around to the blacktop."

"How far?"

"Don't worry about that, I'll have you back in time for you to get to work." Finn grinned and raised one eyebrow. "All you have to do is try to keep up, boyo."

Ben raised an eyebrow of his own as he adjusted his jock strap. "I'll see if I can keep it down to your speed, old man."

Finn just grinned a little wider and set off at a gentle jog.

The first fifteen minutes were at an easy pace as the two men caught a dirt access road and followed it through the trees, flashlights bobbing in the dark. Ben felt good inside and out; he was warming up nicely from the exercise and it was tremendously satisfying to be side by side with the man he desired.

Forty-five minutes later, Ben was not feeling nearly so happy as he stared at Finn's back a good ten feet ahead of him. As the visibility had gradually increased, so had the pace. It seemed that whenever Ben got comfortable, Finn would change the speed; a few times he had actually slowed down, but mostly he would speed up, sometimes just a little, sometimes quite a bit. His legs were starting to feel the strain and Ben was breathing hard when they emerged from the woods onto the blacktop road. He recognized the spot in the gray predawn light and groaned a little when he realized they were almost two miles from the house and that most of that was uphill.

Finn turned around to run backwards, long legs pacing strong and breathing easily.

"I thought you said you were in good shape, boyo," Finn called, a smile clearly visible in the dwindling dimness.

Ben gritted his teeth and pushed a little harder, almost closing the gap.

"You'll have to be doing a lot better than that if you want to beat me back." Finn shook his head, turned back around and sped off down the road.

"You miserable son-of-a-bitch," Ben muttered to himself. He pulled in a deep breath and grimly pressed on, determined to finish.

Staggering and wheezing, Ben finally made it back.

Finn was sitting on the steps of the front porch, leaning back and sipping from a large sports bottle. He rose as Ben almost crashed to a stop at the edge of the grass.

"You," Ben sucked in a breath, "bastard." He bent over and began heaving the contents of his stomach.

"Now, let's not be having any of that." Finn hauled Ben upright and forced him to move. "Keep walking, boy, nice and easy." He squirted water on Ben's face and in his mouth. "Rinse your mouth out... there you go. Easy does it now."

Several minutes later, Ben had finally recovered. He sat at the picnic table opposite Finn, leaning forward, slowly sipping from a second bottle Finn had produced, this one containing a lemony-tasting mixture Finn had called his ‘home-made running juice’. By now, the sun was becoming visible through the tops of the trees.

"How did you do that? You've got to be at least twice my age." Ben shook his head.

"You have to stay in good shape to run the forest. There are still a lot of places that the trucks and even horses can't get to very well, especially if you need to be doing things like tracking a wounded bear for two days. You can do it as well if you work at it, but your problem right now is spending too much time on that hunk of tin." Finn smiled as he shook his head.

"Myrna is not a hunk of tin." Ben straightened, an indignant expression on his face. "Myrna is a high-spirited, high-performance vehicle. And she has been my best friend."

"If she's such a wonderful beastie, when are you going to introduce us?"

"Are you making fun of me?" Ben asked suspiciously, lowering his brows.

"No, I'm trying to understand you."

Ben looked doubtful.

"How about a trade, then? You introduce me to Myrna today, and next time you're out I'll introduce you to Manus."

"Who's Manus?"

"That would be spoiling the surprise if I told you." Finn smiled.

"Well... alright." Ben got up and walked back to his motorcycle. He climbed aboard and turned the key, bringing Myrna to life. He felt a little silly as he looked at Finn, who was standing expectantly a few feet away. He stepped off, but rested one hand on the seat.

"Quilan Finn, this is Myrna." He turned his head. "Myrna, this is Quilan Finn."

Finn bowed politely, then raised an eyebrow. "May I touch her?"

"Sure."

Hand outstretched, Finn stepped closer. He ran his fingertips along the near handlebar, then down the fork. He bent over and pressed his palm to the side of the tank as if absorbing the vibrations.

"Pleased to be meeting you, Myrna."

Ben swore he felt the rumbling purr increase. "She seems to like you."

"You know, I think I may have actually felt something there," Finn said. He straightened and stepped back. "Very odd sort of sensation." He looked at Myrna for a moment, then shook his head. He looked at Ben. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Ben reached over to shut off the engine and quiet fell again.

"Are you ready for the next test?"

"And what is that?" Ben asked warily.

"We're going to check your upper body strength and see if it's as good as your running." Finn walked over onto the grass, not stopping until he got to a particularly long patch.

Ben followed along. He looked down. "This grass is pretty wet, you know."

"Your point being?"

"Uh, nothing. What are we going to do?"

"Push-ups. We'll be doing these quickly, no stops, so see if you can keep up this time."

"Yes, sir." Ben got down into position, dismally suspecting that he probably wasn't going to do any better on this test than he had on the run. He could already feel dampness seeping into the bottom edges of his sweat pants.

Two hundred and twenty-four push-ups later, Ben was proved correct. His arms quivered out of control and he collapsed face down in the thick grass, while Finn was still steadily pumping like an oil well arm. He rolled over on his back and groaned.

Finn kept going for almost a full minute. He finally stopped in the up position, then sprang gracefully to his feet. He stepped over, looked down, then nudged Ben with the toe of one foot.

"Looks like you need to be doing some strength training, too." There was a ghost of a grin on his face.

Ben looked up. "I was wrong. You're not a bastard. You are a fucking brass-balled wanker, sir."

"And I like you, too." Finn's grin widened as he reached a hand down.

Ben groaned as he took the proffered hand and was dragged to his feet. "I hurt already."

"Don't worry, it gets better. Let's go sit; we need to talk."

"Yes, sir."

As Ben walked around the side of the house, he was distinctly aware of how soggy his sweats were from lying in the wet grass. He tried to hold his shirt away from his body and flap the fabric into some semblance of dryness but was quite unsuccessful. He was debating whether it was warm enough yet to take it off altogether.

"Didn't your priest ever tell you that physical discomfort helps build character, boyo? That's why the pews in church are always so hard." Finn had trailed a little behind to pick up a notebook from the porch. He sat at the table and took a long drink of water from the sports bottle he had left there.

"I always thought that was just to make it harder to sleep." Ben dropped onto the bench, his sodden sweatpants clinging to his legs.

"Well, that, too." Finn's smile quickly disappeared as he leaned forward. The closed notebook lay off to one side. "It's time to set up ground rules for what we are going to be doing. First, I want you to tell me why you are here and what it is you want to accomplish."

"I am here to learn," Ben said slowly. He took a sip of water as he mulled over his choice of words. "It is now clear to me that I don't know nearly as much as I thought I did, either about myself as a person or what I want to be." He used the tip of his tongue to toy with a back tooth as he thought some more. "I want to find out what is inside me, and how to make it better." Ben looked into Finn's steady gaze. "I want to heal, and I want to find peace with myself."

"Those are good goals," Finn said softly. "But I have the feeling there is something else as well. Tell me what you want."

Ben took a slow, deep breath as he put both hands flat on the table. He felt like his heart had stopped, but he forced himself to keep looking at Finn. "I'd... I'd like to be your friend." Ben swallowed hard and waited for his world to crash at his audacity.

Finn straightened, but kept looking at Ben as the silence lengthened. Finally he raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly. "I suppose those are all good goals. They are ALL going to take time and effort to achieve, though."

"Yes, sir." Ben breathed a sigh of relief and felt the tension in his shoulders release. He had felt that he had to give a truthful response, but was glad that Finn seemed to have taken the words at simple face value. Ben ventured a small smile. "Everything truly worthwhile has to be earned. That much at least I think I have learned so far."

That did draw an answering smile. "It's a good start." The smile faded again as Finn drew the notebook to him. He rested one hand on it. "Back to the subject of ground rules, the first thing to understand is that I don't normally teach, at least not this sort of thing. I am pretty much making this up as I go and drawing on a number of different disciplines which I have learned over the years. I want to stress that this is a joint effort; I will be learning from you as much as you will be learning from me, so if at any point you don't understand what I'm doing or how to do what I am asking, it is your responsibility to ask questions."

"Yes, sir. There may be a lot of them, though."

"I'd rather have that than your unquestioning acceptance of everything I say." Finn let a smile slip across his face before he continued. "The next thing is that the learning process is a very serious undertaking. I want to formalize our sessions to emphasize that point. When we start a teaching lesson, we will stand facing each other, pause, then bow. We will do the same thing to mark the end of the formal session. During a session you will address me as 'Sifu', which means teacher. Any questions?"

"Should I have a title, or am I the nameless apprentice?" asked Ben with a grin.

"You shall be 'Sidai', which means junior brother, or 'Mr. Kennan'. Someday, if you work very hard, you may eventually become 'Siheng', or senior brother." Finn lowered his brows and said sternly, "You start arsing around during a session and I’ll be having plenty of other names for you, boy."

"Yes, sir." Ben swallowed his grin.

"We are going to be using primarily Tai Chi, or variations thereof, as the basis for your training. That is where those terms come from, by the way." Finn leaned forward again, elbows on the table, steepling his fingers. "You said you have done some martial arts?"

Ben nodded. "The local fad was karate, but I think I only did it because several of my friends were. It was fun for a while, but I drifted off into other things."

"So you are at least familiar with the concept of katas?"

"We did sparring and the empty hand forms, but I only went to a couple of competitions where we got to use those."

"Did your sensei talk about the philosophy of karate?"

"He did, but I'm afraid I didn't pay much attention to that part of it."

"Right, we'll start on the ground floor, then." Finn took a sip of water as he considered his words. "Perhaps the most basic thing you need to be understanding is that Tai Chi is not the same as many of the other martial arts. You will have goals to meet along the path, but it's not intended to be a quick undertaking with instant gratification. ‘Tis a life-long pursuit that requires patience, practice and discipline. If you are consistent and persistent, Tai Chi will become a way of life that connects and transforms your body, mind and soul. It will help you to define who you are and how you relate to the world."

"A fundamental principle is that you want the body and the senses to be working together in unity. Tai Chi requires constant movement, but the source of movement is quietness." Finn moved one hand. "Life is movement. Sit somewhere for a while, in town, in the forest, at home, and watch and listen. You’ll find that there is always some form of motion in and around you." He raised his hand to rest two fingertips against his temple. "The key to quietness is a calm mind. You can do this by working on being at peace with yourself, by improving your character, by being natural, maintaining a quiet mind, practicing clear thinking and learning to simplify your life. Tai Chi is the practice of seeking serenity within movement; remaining calm even when conditions are difficult."

"That doesn't sound very easy," Ben said somberly.

"Learning the basic physical movements is not that difficult, but truly living the philosophy, well, that’s another matter altogether. Tai Chi is really four different exercises: physical, intellectual, spiritual, and combat. Just like any other form of physical movement, Tai Chi can be performed either slowly or quickly. At any speed it can help you to develop flexibility and coordination, and improve circulation and metabolism. Moving more quickly can turn a routine into quite an aerobic workout. The intellectual exercise promotes relaxation, awareness, and focus. When you achieve more advanced levels, you must have intense concentration in order to split and focus awareness on two different areas, the body and breathing. Tai Chi places great emphasis on precise movements and coordination. At the same time, you must ensure that your breathing is deep, regular, and rhythmic."

Finn stopped and took another sip of water. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, eyes half-closed. Finally, he looked directly at Ben and said softly, "If you keep working at it for many years, eventually your body learns to perform the movements automatically. That frees up your mind to be focusing instead on the Zen practice called "Here and Now." It truly is a beautiful feeling to be able to let go of your individual separate self and commune directly with nature. It’s like a dance of the spirit, to be in harmony with all around you. That’s why I love doing Tai Chi outdoors." He shook his head. "There are times when I think I could lose myself in that moment and stay there forever."

Silence stretched until Ben stirred. "That must have been what I saw. You looked like you were completely at peace with yourself and everything around you," he said wistfully.

"Aye, I was." Finn let one hand rest on the table, palm up. "One of the things you must learn on your path to that goal is to understand and believe in yourself."

"Yes, sir." Ben sighed. "You said it was also a combat exercise?"

"So it is." Finn took a deep breath to refocus himself. "Tai Chi is also used for self-defense, both unarmed and with weapons." He looked pointedly at Ben. "I have studied staff and sword, but you will need to develop a high degree of proficiency in the basic forms before I will even consider introducing those topics."

"Of course, sir. So where do we start?"

"The initial training involves learning solo routines, known as 'forms' or 'hand forms'. Once you have mastered those, we will move on to two-person routines called 'pushing hands'. You will be starting with basic exercises and stances, learning individual movements. From there we will start putting the pieces together. And always, of course, you will work on breathing."

"I already learned about that in karate. It wasn’t all that hard, so what’s the big deal about sucking in oxygen?" Ben cocked his head skeptically.

"There are ways to do it better, Mr. Kennan," Finn said with a half-smile.

"Okay." Ben nodded his head.

"I've laid out some things for you to work on between sessions." Finn opened the notebook and put a finger on the first page. "You should continue to improve your conditioning. I want you to run three to four times a week, at least once hard and fast and at least twice slower but for longer distances, same thing with weight work or resistive exercises. I put some examples at the first tab." He moved his finger down the paper. "Every day you should do some stretching exercises to increase your flexibility, those are in the second tab. The third area we are going to work on will be some basic stances. I'll show you those today and there are diagrams in the fourth tab. You should also practice the breathing exercises daily." He slid the book over to Ben.

Ben studied the outline for a few moments. "So when do we actually start doing Tai Chi?"

"This is all part of 'doing Tai Chi'. When you can hold a stance and breathe properly, I will start on some of the basic movements. There are two versions of the hand form; we will be doing the square form first, which is a fixed count exercise for learning. From there we'll go to the round form, which is much smoother and has no fixed count."

"Sounds like it's a good thing I was planning on staying in town for quite a while," Ben said with a wry smile.

"Patience and perseverance, Mr. Kennan, will become your new mantra." Finn stood up. "Shall we start your first lesson?"

Forty-five minutes later, the two men faced each other.

"Thank you, Sifu."

"You are welcome, Sidai."

They bowed, held the position for a count of three, then straightened.

"Alright, I was wrong," Ben admitted as they walked back to the table. "It isn't as easy as I thought to breathe."

"Just keep practicing. Same thing with the stances; you want to work up to being able to hold each one for three minutes."

"That was harder than it looked, too." Ben sat down carefully. It seemed that Finn believed in both demonstration and hands-on techniques for teaching, and the occasional touch of those big hands had left Ben feeling more than a bit tingly and a little hard. A tinge of uncertainty nagged at him, as he wondered if he would be able to maintain his composure if all of their future sessions included Finn's efficient but ever-so-tempting contacts.

"Remember that you want to stay centered, especially with your breathing exercises. All Tai Chi movements begin in the belly and propagate outward. Staying centered will help you feel the connections between movements when we start putting them together later." Finn reached for his water bottle and took a long drink.

Ben nodded, then sipped from the other bottle. He tossed his doubts into a back corner of his mind and concentrated on the conversation of the moment.

"Do you know what your work schedule is for the next month or so?" asked Finn as he set his bottle down.

"Not yet. I expect we'll have something by this afternoon. I do know I'll be working during the 4th of July holiday, and probably a fair number of weekends the rest of the summer."

"I probably will also since summer is a very busy season for us. I'll be out of touch for the next seven days, so give me a call a week from tomorrow and we'll set up a schedule. My number is in the notebook."

Ben scanned the first page. "I see it. Any particular time of day I should call?"

"No. I usually have the day off after a patrol. If I'm not home, just leave a number where I can reach you."

"Alright." Ben hesitated, ran a forefinger in circles on the table. "I, uh... well, I wanted to thank you again for helping me."

"You're welcome." Finn nodded graciously. "We still have some time if there is anything else you'd like to talk about."

Ben let silence linger for a moment before answering. "Right now I have so much going on in my head that I just can't figure out where to start thinking about things."

"Hmmm... a good point. Sometimes finding the right beginning can be the hardest part of a journey." Finn leaned back a little, rested his hands on his thighs. "May I offer a few suggestions?"

"Of course."

"First exercise is to find a mirror. Stand in front of the mirror and try to relax as completely as possible. Focus on the image in the mirror. Think about what you’re seeing, then think about what is inside that image."

Ben looked at Finn dubiously. "And the point of this is?"

"The exercise is only as valuable as the effort you put into it. The 'point' is to start building a baseline understanding of who you currently are. Who is this person who is 'not Benjamin'?" Finn cocked his head and smiled. "It’s hard to know where you might want to go if you don't know where you are and where you have been."

Ben furrowed his brow and sucked on his lower lip for a moment as he thought about this concept. Eventually his face cleared and the corner of his mouth quirked in a partial smile. "Alright, I'll probably feel pretty silly but I'll give it a try."

"The other thing you might want to be doing is to just choose one question to start mulling over, even if you have to write down a lot of questions and then pick one out of a hat. Or you could go back as far as you can remember, and start working on what you thought you wanted from your family, especially your father, and the differences between what you wanted and what you got."

"That's an angle I hadn't considered." Ben nodded to himself. "Maybe I'll give that a shot as well." He looked at his watch, then stood up. "Thanks. I'd better get cleaned up so I can get to work."

Finn accompanied Ben as they walked back to Myrna. He waited for Ben to put on his gear.

"See you soon. Keep up with your exercises."

"Yes, sir." Ben waved as he started down the driveway. His last sight was of Finn standing silently, arm upraised.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Nine §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"That should do it," Frank pronounced. He stepped back from the two Honda dirt bikes they had just spent the last three afternoons and evenings completely disassembling, reassembling and adding street-legal kits to. "Good work, everybody."

Ben put his wrench back into his toolbox as he dragged a sleeve across his forehead to clear the sweat. He had gained a new respect for how quickly and thoroughly Midway Motorcycles went about doing business. Monday afternoon, three trucks had pulled up behind the shop. For two days, everybody who wasn't directly helping a customer or working on a repair had been pressed into service to inventory motorcycles, boxes of parts and accessories and then rearranging the showroom and accessories sales area to accommodate the new items. Frank had then gathered all of his mechanics together for what he called an 'intensive familiarization' on two of the new machines. Even Bobby had joined them for two of the evening sessions, coming over from his other job at Ruger.

"Well, it'll never replace a Hog in my heart, but I guess the little sucker could grow on ya." Jake Fogler had been a summer regular for ten years. A retired Navy veteran and widower, Jake spent his year rotating among his three children's homes.

"Different bikes for different purposes," said Mattie. "This one's great for general off-roading or around town, but I wouldn't take it racing or on a long road trip."

"She's got a point," said Frank. "Mattie, why don't you and Ben take these for a turn around the lot so we can make sure that nothing falls off."

Ben smiled at the mild joke as he climbed aboard one of the bikes and started it. Frank, Jake and Steve, the other university intern, trailed along as he and Mattie slowly rode out along the alley behind the building. When they reached the block-long parking lot that was shared by several businesses, they went around and between the rows several times, trying different speeds and some hard stops. Frank finally waved them in and everybody went back to the maintenance bay.

"So what's the verdict, Frank?" Tony was leaning against one of the tool benches. "Think your crew can handle those complicated contraptions?"

"No problem. Think your bunch is going to be able to sell any of them?"

"First ads went out in today's paper and I've already had three calls," Tony said with a grin.

"A call isn't at all the same thing as a sale."

"You just have some people ready to do the preps." Tony pushed off and sauntered back toward the showroom.

Frank shook his head. "Alright, folks. Jake, you and Steve have the late shift today so please put these bikes away in the warehouse." He glanced at his watch. "Ben and Mattie, your shift will be over soon, so you can go ahead and clean up. Greg should have your paychecks ready by four." He looked around. "Did everyone get the update for the new schedules?" He waited until they all nodded. "If anybody needs to see me, I'll be in my office. Thanks for all the hard work this week."

Ben hung up his coveralls, did a quick cleanup and waited until the employee lounge was empty. He winced as he reached to pick up the local phone to dial Finn's number. The extra workouts he had started this last week had left him sore in several places. He rolled his shoulders as the phone rang at the far end.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Ben Kennan. You said to call on Friday to set up the next session."

"Good to hear from you, Ben. I've got to work Sunday, so can you come out tomorrow morning, say around eight?"

"That works for me. I've got my schedule for the next six weeks, also."

"Great. We can take a look at setting up the next several sessions. Have you been doing your exercises?"

"Yes, sir, although I'm not sure I'm doing the breathing thing right."

"We'll work on that together. See you tomorrow."

"See you at eight, then. Good-bye."

Ben carefully hung up the phone. He smiled, a little flush of happiness spreading through him as he thought about the brief conversation. Finn said we'll work on that together, he thought. Damn but that sounded so good. I like that word 'together'.

There was a lighter spring to his step as Ben went back out into the bay. He stopped short, however, as he caught sight of a burly policeman chatting with Frank by one of the open back doors - a burly policeman with a very memorable square jaw. Ben turned and headed for the door to the front.

"Hey, you. Kennan!"

Ben reluctantly turned and went to join the two men.

"I see you're still here, kid," the cop said.

"Yes, sir."

"Something wrong, Chuck?" Frank asked. "Is Ben in any sort of trouble?"

"Well, I don't know yet. So he really does work for you?"

"Certainly. In fact, we just moved him to a permanent full-time position."

"Had any problems with him?"

"Chuck, you know damned good and well that Midway is very particular about who we bring on." Frank put his hands on his hips and glared. "Maybe he's still got a few growing pains to go through, but he's one of the best with the bikes I've seen in a long time. If there's a problem, I want to know about it so we can get it taken care of."

"Okay, okay. I'm just trying to look out for your best interests, Frank. I found him in here alone one night way after normal hours and it just looked pretty strange. Meant to call you, but I got caught up on another problem and didn't have a chance to do it."

"Oh, yeah. That must have been the night Ben was putting that new covering down on the shop floor." Frank relaxed. "I'm telling you he is alright."

Ben had been standing uncomfortably silent, not wanting to bring any attention to himself. He wasn't sure why the policeman had called him out again, but his experiences over the last year had led him to believe that young men on motorcycles must not be very popular with anybody's local police.

The cop turned his full attention on Ben and looked him up and down, finally nodded. "If Frank says you're okay, then that's okay by me. I'm going to give you an unofficial word of advice, though. We don't advertise this, but we do keep an eye on all the vehicles that hang around town more than a few days and the plates get put in the computer. When I called your tags in that night, you got moved to what we call a 'watch list'. I don't suppose you're enrolled at the university, are you?"

"No, sir. What does it mean if I'm on this watch list?" Ben had an unpleasant feeling growing in his stomach.

"If you're on the list we keep a closer eye on you. Wait a second." He quickly went to his squad car and came back with a hand-held wireless computer, then punched in some numbers. "Here you are. Somebody else reported your tags on general surveillance back in March, and you got elevated to the watch list sooner than normal when I called you in again. The only real problem you've got is that if you keep your vehicle in Wyoming more than 120 days you have to register it unless you are in the military or college, so we already have an approximate record of how long you've had that motorcycle here. Once our records show that you've been here at least 120 days, you will start getting ticketed every time one of our people happens to see your bike and recognizes the tags. Get enough tickets and we'll impound it."

"I understand, sir. I'll get that taken care of." Ben's tone was confident, but inside he was cursing.

The radio on the policeman's belt crackled with a series of numbers and a street name. "Gotta go. Frank, remember to give me a call if you get any strangers in looking to sell used parts."

"Sure will, Chuck. Thanks for the heads-up." Frank waved as the squad car rolled down the alley. He motioned to Ben to follow him to his office.

"Chuck's right about the 120 day rule. They don't cut any slack around here for things like that." Frank sat down behind his desk. "I know you started working here the middle of March, but how long have you actually been in town?"

"Since the beginning of March, sir."

"That only gives you a couple more weeks to get the bike registered. Got insurance?"

"Yes, sir, but it's expiring very soon."

"They're not going to like that, got to have a current policy. What with only being twenty-one and having a damned nice bike, the insurance and the initial registration fee are probably going to set you back a bit."

"Is there a way I can find out how much it's going to cost?" Ben was feeling increasingly sick as he thought about his tiny savings. He hadn't counted on having to do the registration this soon.

"Let me see who's still in upstairs." Frank called an interoffice number on his phone. "Yeva, you got a few minutes? Great. I want to bring someone up to see you. Be right there." He hung up the phone. "Yeva can help you work it out. She's a whiz with that stuff. Been doing this for ages and is mostly retired, but you're lucky this is one of her days here."

Ben followed Frank up the stairs, down a couple of hallways and around several corners. Frank knocked at a non-descript wooden door and waited a few seconds before entering.

"Yeva, this is Ben Kennan, my new mechanic. He needs to figure out how much it's going to cost him for insurance and to register his motorcycle here." He motioned Ben in. "Ben, this is Yeva."

"Hello, ma'am." Ben reached out carefully to take the hand held out by the tiny wizened woman in coke-bottle glasses. "I appreciate whatever you can help me with."

"Is no problem, my boy, no problem," beamed the old woman as she hopped back up in her chair. "Have a seat and see what we can do, we will."

"I'll leave you to it. See you Sunday, Ben." Frank waved as he left.

"Yes, sir. Thanks." Ben sat down in a chair next to the desk.

"Need your driving license and card of registration I do," Yeva said. "Information the system needs to find what we want."

"Yes, ma'am." Ben pulled out his wallet and handed over both items. He watched as her fingers flew over the keyboard.

Yeva peered at her enormous computer screen and clucked to herself as various screens scrolled past. "Hmm, not so good is the age, but better than being less than twenty-one.... Good, good, no tickets..." She raised an eyebrow. "Expensive motorcycle for such a young man, not so good for registration fee." Yeva leaned back in her chair and looked at Ben. "Rich you don't look."

"I'm very poor, believe me," Ben said sincerely. "The motorcycle took all my savings at the time. Now all I have is what I'm making here at Midway."

"Very well. Driving license you don't need to change for a year, but register you must within 120 days or many big tickets you will get."

"Yes, ma'am. How much does it cost for the registration?"

"Two parts to registration there are. First is basic fee; for motorcycle is twelve dollars. Second is county fee; cost times depreciation times three percent." Yeva typed in some numbers. "This year will cost you one hundred eighty-two dollars plus twelve dollars for total of one hundred ninety-four dollars."

Ben slumped a little lower in his seat as he heard the numbers. He was almost afraid to ask his next question. "And what about insurance?"

"Hmmm, many choices for cars, but not so many for motorcycles." Yeva scrolled back and forth between several screens. "Too much money these people want... this one is cheap, but not good to work with... ah, this one, I think." She looked at Ben. "A minute while I call."

Ben nodded, put his license and registration away, and settled back in his chair.

Yeva did a bit more typing, then made a phone call. "Nikios, how are you today? Another new grandbaby I hear you have, yes?"

For five minutes Yeva chatted about family, weather, arthritis, the deplorable state of television programming and holiday plans.

"Business we must talk, Nikios. Form you have for Mister Ben Kennan? Good. Now what can we do for him?" She listened for a moment. "Nikky, Nikky, this is Yeva, not that goyim over at the Ford place." Yeva shook her head. "But such a nice young man is Mr. Ben. Full time here he works. No tickets he has." She made a clucking noise into the handset. "Frank Mendoza personally has hired Mr. Ben to work for him." She smiled as the handset chattered and sighed. "Ah, my Nikky, such a beautiful man you are. Many more grandchildren I am sure you will have."

As Yeva continued to chat, she attacked the keyboard again. Within a few seconds paper began emerging from the printer next to her monitor.

"Yes, have it I do. Answer for you the nice young man will have by Tuesday." She listened for a moment, then laughed. "Too much money your company already has, better for business it is to be nice to people. Good it is to talk with you, Nikky. My love you must give to Eleni." She still had a smile on her face as she hung up the phone. She reached to collect the four pages that the printer had spewed forth, then handed them to Ben.

"Very good company this is; take care of you they will. Cost is probably more than you want, but better you will not do with any reputable company." She shook her head. "Good driver I am sure you are, but few companies will give motorcycle insurance and high-risk category you are in, especially with only having a permanent job such a short time."

"Yes, ma'am, I understand."

"Read the offer carefully. If questions you have, call me at this number." Yeva took a card from a drawer and gave it to Ben. "Call Nikios Kalogeria by Tuesday to let him know yes or no. I have promised him this so you must call even if you do not want to buy the insurance from him."

"Yes, ma'am, I will." Ben stood up. "Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it."

Yeva slid down from her chair and walked Ben to the door. "Like helping I do." She patted Ben's arm. "A nice young man you are, Ben. Things will work out for you."

"Yes, ma'am." Ben tried to smile. "Thanks again."

Ben folded the papers and stuck them in his back pocket without looking at them. He stopped down the hall to pick up his paycheck, then went downstairs and headed home.

An hour later Ben was sitting at his desk, a half-eaten sandwich sitting ignored as he smoothed out the insurance offer. His heart sank as he looked at the numbers; it really was very good coverage but so damned expensive. He stared at the figures for a long moment, then sighed as he reached for a tablet to do some figuring.

"Shit!" Ben felt even worse as he stared at the old scribbles left over from his attempt to find money to fly home. He had been so busy with the extra hours at work and his new exercises, he had forgotten that the day before was Maureen's graduation. "I didn't even send an email this week. I guess I can leave a voice mail, but I feel like such a jerk not even remembering." He ripped off the sheet of paper and tossed it into the trash can. He sat dejectedly for a moment before shaking his head and picking up a pencil.

"Okay, it takes $194 for the registration and $357 for insurance, that's $551."

Ben looked at his paycheck. Even with the overtime for working on the dirt bikes, the net total was only $635.

"Jeezus, I've only got $84 left over. The next check will cover the current rent at the end of the month, but I can't count on any more overtime, so I guess that has to stretch for a whole month. I'll have to put off the service for Myrna again and new boots, and it's still going to be bologna sandwiches for a while." Ben stared at the numbers on the page and bit his lip. "Just goddammit, why does everything have to be so fucking expensive," he said softly. "Dammit, dammit, dammit. I still can't come anywhere close to paying off the security deposit and back rent I promised to give Jane." He slammed a fist onto the desk in frustration. The thought of having to ask for yet another extension was galling, but even if he was able to get some odd jobs on his days off, it wasn't going to be that much extra. "Maybe I could get a second job or something," he muttered. "But I've got to leave time for the sessions with Quilan Finn." His jaw tightened. "That and Myrna are the only two things that I really can't live without." Ben sighed. "What a mess..."

**************** ***************

The sun was already bright when Ben pulled in behind the old truck. He absently took his riding gear off; he was still thinking about the voice mail he had left for Maureen to congratulate her and berating himself for his forgetfulness. He pulled his notebook from a pannier and headed around the side of the house.

"Good morning," Ben called.

Quilan Finn was sitting backwards on the bench closest to Ben, elbows on the table, head leaning back with his eyes closed. He blinked once before slowly standing and stretching.

"Morning," said Finn. He smiled. "I see you remembered to bring your book."

"Yes, sir. I added a log section to keep track of workouts and sessions."

"Good idea. I've got a few things to add as well after we finish." Finn gestured toward the open grassy area. "Ready to start?"

"Sure, let's do it." Ben tossed the book onto the table.

The two men took up positions facing each other, bowed, then straightened.

"Sifu." Ben nodded.

"Sidai." Finn acknowledged. "What have you practiced?"

"Breathing, stances, running and weight work, Sifu."

"What are your questions?"

"I don't think I'm doing the breathing exercises properly, Sifu."

"Very well. We shall work on those first."

For ten minutes Finn patiently reviewed the minutia of how to breathe.

"Tilt the pelvis but don't lean." Hands brushed hips. "Head up."

"Feel how your shoulders are hitting my hands? You need to let your upper body relax down, not rise."

"Here. Center on your belly," one hand pressed firmly into Ben's gut, "and here, the middle of your spine," other hand pushing hard. "Shoulders down, suck your balls up as you inhale, bring everything toward the center."

A thump on the chest. "Concentrate on inhaling with your stomach, not your chest. Use the lower muscles."

"Better." Finn finally stepped away. "Two more, slowly." Finn watched critically. "Feel the difference?"

"Yes, Sifu." Ben rolled his shoulders. The warmth of Finn's hands had been pleasant, but today even that was not enough to lift his funk about his finances. "I guess I still need to work on that a lot."

"Remember that you're just getting started. I'll let you know if you're not making adequate progress. Let's do some stretches."

Ben followed his teacher's lead as they moved slowly through several exercises. He tried not to wince as his back and legs twinged; he was even sorer than he had realized. He was lying on his side, lower leg extended, upper leg bent over as his upper body twisted the opposite direction. Ben glanced back as Finn knelt behind him.

"You need to fully extend. Right down here is where you should be feeling this, not in your upper body." Finn slid his hand down Ben's spine, then pushed in right above the top of his sweat pants. He stopped as Ben grunted in pain, then rose abruptly.

"Sidai, stand up." Finn's tone was flat and cold.

"Is something wrong?" Ben looked up, but didn't move.

"I said stand up."

Ben yelped as he was unceremoniously hauled to his feet by the scruff of his shirt and the seat of his pants. "Hey, what was that for?"

Finn stepped back, arms crossed. "Sidai."

Under Finn's withering stare, Ben swallowed his indignation and stood straight. "Yes, Sifu?"

"Two things. First, I thought we had an agreement to communicate. You are as tight as a duck's arse and clearly have some sort of issue with being touched today; if you have a problem with personal space, I need to know that so I can adjust my teaching style. If the problem is physical, I need to know that so I don't put you in a position to injure yourself."

"No, sir... I mean, no, Sifu," Ben stumbled over his words in his haste to respond. "I don't have a problem at all with the way you teach. It really helps me understand better when you show me how to do things."

Finn said nothing, but his raised eyebrow spoke for him.

"I, uh... I am more sore than I thought I would be. I guess I'm not really in as good a shape as I believed."

"Where is the problem?"

"My legs and arms, but mostly my back. I might have overdone the weight work," Ben admitted.

"You are to tell me about such things before we start. Is that clear, Sidai?"

"Yes, Sifu. I'm sorry."

"Now, my second point. You are clearly not fully focused. Whatever else you have going on, you will leave it outside the session." Finn dropped his arms and stepped close, almost in Ben's face. "If you are not going to concentrate, there is no point to any of this. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sifu." Ben swallowed hard, rattled by the heat and steady stare looming over him. He looked down, unable to meet that gaze.

Ben waited for what seemed an eternity. He tried to keep from fidgeting as the silence lengthened.

Eventually Finn stepped back, apparently satisfied that his point had been made. "Are you ready to resume?"

"Yes, Sifu."

"Very well. We will do some stretches for your back before we move to stances. Watch as I demonstrate."

"Yes, Sifu."

An hour later Ben was amazed again at how much work was involved in such seemingly simple things as breathing and learning how to move arms and legs. He had a good sweat going while Finn had never even breathed hard.

"Thank you, Sifu."

"You are welcome, Sidai."

They bowed, held the position for a count of three, then straightened.

"Definitely a long way to go," Ben sighed.

"Patience and perseverance, boyo," said Finn as a small grin sneaked onto his lips. "I ought to make you write that a thousand times twice a day."

Ben grimaced behind Finn's back as they moved to sit at the picnic table. Finn pulled a small cooler from underneath one bench.

"Here, you need to stay hydrated, especially as the weather gets hotter. It's another of my favorite concoctions." Finn tossed a sports bottle across the table.

Ben gratefully took a long drink of the cold liquid. He hadn't noticed it before, but the sun was definitely hot this morning.

"Thanks," Ben said as he put the bottle down and blew out a breath.

"How's your back?" Finn was putting more notes into a couple of the tabs in Ben's notebook.

"Much better. Those stretches helped a lot."

"Good. I've added some sets of exercises for your daily routine and I want you to be careful on the weight work. Keep working on the breathing exercises and stances." Finn pushed the notebook across the table.

"Yes, sir." Ben looked through the new instructions, nodding slowly.

"If you've no other questions, what is your real problem today?"

"Sir?"

"You had your cranium firmly planted in the darkness of your posterior this morning," Finn said dryly. "What are you going to do to extract it?"

"Look, I'm sorry I wasn't all there; I apologize for that and I will work harder at staying focused." Ben looked away, reluctant to further expose his weaknesses. "Things were so busy at work I forgot to call my sister Thursday when she was graduating from college and I was feeling bad about that."

"I'm sure that had a bit to do with your mood, but really, Ben, sometimes you are very transparent." Finn had the start of a grin on his face. "I'd wager a month's pay you've got some kind of money problem."

Ben scowled as he chewed on the inside of his left cheek for a long moment. "Alright, dammit, yes, it's about the stupid money."

"You would greatly disappoint me if you've done something so mundane as blowing your first new paycheck on a triviality," Finn poked, one eyebrow raised.

Ben wasn't sure whether he should be happy that Finn seemed to be taking quite an interest in him or pissed at the grin on the man's face as he prodded. "I haven't spent any of it yet." He stared down at the table. "I thought I was going to be doing well financially; I had already promised Jane I'd have a big chunk of the back rent and security deposit I still owe her. Yesterday, though, I found out I've only got a few more weeks to register Myrna here in Wyoming or I'll start getting tickets." He looked up. "With the registration and the new insurance, it's going to take almost the entire check I just got and my next check is going to have to cover the current rent payment."

"Sounds pretty challenging." Finn took a drink of water. "What options have you been considering?"

Ben rocked a little on the bench as he thought. "There is no option about registering Myrna, and I have to have current insurance in order to get the registration."

"There are always options. You just need to expand your thinking a bit."

"What are you talking about?"

"At the two extremes, you can either just gather your stuff and leave, or you can stay and do nothing."

"I can't do either of those." Ben was aghast that Finn would even suggest such things.

"Why not?"

"I just..." Ben floundered a moment. "I won't leave. I'm getting started on a new life here, and I don't want to throw that away. And I can't simply do nothing; that is not an acceptable risk for Myrna. They'll impound her if I get too many tickets."

"Sounds like we've started to establish some parameters for your solution set." Finn leaned forward, forearms resting on the table. "What other choices do you have?"

Ben took a long slow breath as he tried to marshal his ideas.

"I was thinking that I'd probably have to ask Jane to give me another extension," Ben said slowly. He sighed as his shoulders slumped. He shook his head, gaze fixed downward. "I don't know of any work I could get to raise enough money so quickly, so I'm not sure what else I can do to get through these next few weeks."

"And you're not happy about having to do that." A flat statement rather than a question.

"No, sir."

"Why not?"

Ben continued to stare down, his lips pursed.

Finn waited patiently.

Eventually, Ben sighed heavily. He laid one hand flat on the table and pressed down until his elbow locked. In a low gruff voice he said, "I'm not a skidder and I've always hated having to ask for help, for looking weak. I told you that when I was growing up, I was taught that it was a duty, an obligation to help others. But I didn't really talk about how there was always a self-righteous condescension underlying the fancy words. You did charitable deeds because that was the 'right thing to do', and you said all the politically correct words about the people that you were supposed to be helping, but there was an unspoken contempt for those people for needing help in the first place. And the things everybody said about losers ripping off welfare were even worse." His voice tightened. "I don't want people thinking that way about me." Ben's hands clenched into fists. "I'm not a fucking charity case. I should be able to make it on my own and I should be able to make good on my promises."

"I'm beginning to think we might need major surgery to excise that idea from your remarkably dense brain." Finn shook his head. "You sound just as stupid as those jerks who help people only because it makes them feel good."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Ben reared back, head up and eyes flashing angrily.

"There is a huge difference between misguided charity or welfare and letting people help you because they really care about other people." Finn tapped the table for emphasis. "You should hear yourself, all wrapped up in your own pride and misconceptions." He shook his head again.

"Real life has winners and losers. What is so wrong about not wanting to be on the bottom looking up?"

"I'm not some Pollyanna, thinking that everything is goodness and light, but I do believe there are a lot of good people in this world. And I also believe that there is no bottom or top, there are only differences in situations and abilities, Mr. Kennan. True friendship, family or good-heartedness is about everybody winning. It's about helping when you can because you can, whether it's people or animals or whatever, and accepting help from others with grace and gratefulness. It's knowing that sometimes you're the one who can do the helping, and knowing that sometimes life sucks bollocks and you're going to be the one who needs help." Finn leaned forward far enough for one long arm to reach out; he grabbed the front of Ben's shirt and pulled him forward. "It's not about winning or losing or who is better. How hard am I going to have to kick your miserable arse to dislodge some of those notions you grew up with?"

Ben was frozen by the intense blue eyes boring into him from mere inches away. He swallowed, his jaw worked but no words came out. He was vaguely aware of the feel of a large fist just below his chin, a hard wooden edge digging into his gut and empty air under his butt.

Suddenly Finn released his hold and Ben dropped back onto the bench with a thud. "Sorry. I tend to get a little carried away sometimes."

"If I'm such a stupid prick, I wonder why you're wasting your time on me." Ben scowled to hide his hurt.

"You are neither stupid nor a prick," Finn said with an exasperated sigh. "You are a bright, articulate, hard-working, polite young man. But you've got so much potential to be even better that I hate seeing you beating yourself up so needlessly."

"Oh," said Ben in a small voice. He could feel a blush creeping up the back of his neck.

"You don't take compliments very well either, do you?" observed Finn wryly.

"I guess that's something else I need to get over." Ben felt the heat rising as his blush threatened to spread across his face.

"I didn't mean to be so harsh. How about we get back to solving your immediate problem?" Finn held out his hand.

"Sure." Ben shook the proffered hand, then smiled a little. "I can be pretty hard-headed," he admitted sheepishly. "I suppose sometimes it takes a good swift kick to get my attention."

Finn smiled back. "I'll remember that." He took a slow, deliberate sip from his bottle. "So, you've got a temporary cash flow problem?"

"That's a good way to put it." Ben relaxed, propping an elbow on the table. "I wouldn't feel so bad about asking Jane for another extension if I hadn't made such a big deal about being able to pay down so much of the arrears. It feels like I'm going back on a promise."

"Do you honestly feel that Jane is going to think less of you if you ask for an extension?"

Ben thought for a while. "I know her well enough now that I don't think she would. When I first talked her into letting me have the room I know I did believe that; it was partly why I insisted in signing the paperwork for the rent and security deposit as a loan with Myrna's title as the security. I didn't want it to look like charity." Ben picked at a splinter in the edge of a board. "Part of this is my own fault, I suppose. I've insisted on paying the full advertised rent, even though Jane has offered to reduce it in return for work around the place." He glanced up at Finn. "That's my stupid pride again."

"Well, at least you've been consistent," said Finn dryly. "Are there any other ways to help with the cash flow?"

"I was thinking about trying to get a second job or find some more odd jobs. That's getting hard to do, though, with the rotating schedule I'm working for Midway. I'll keep checking around, but that's not going to be much of a short-term fix. And I don't want to borrow money – I'm already in debt to Jane and I'd hate to add to my bills."

"How about the insurance payment? I know the registration fee has to be paid up front, but will the insurance company accept a partial payment?"

"No. I'm in such a high-risk category, they want the whole thing up front."

"Have you asked?"

"The form clearly says one payment in advance."

"But have you asked?"

"I said the form clearly –"

"You're not listening," Finn interrupted. "Haven't you ever negotiated for a better price on anything or done any trading or even dickered about getting paid for work?"

"Well... for Myrna, yeah, that's expected when you buy a vehicle. But they post prices for most stuff and that's what you pay. At school we had an unofficial rate scale for tutoring among ourselves, my other jobs had official pay rates or I took what was offered if it seemed fair. I asked Jane to help me figure out what to charge for odd jobs around here." He had the grace to look embarrassed. "I guess I've never really needed to know that sort of thing."

"Jaysus, how did you survive a year on your own, boy?" Finn shook his head and sighed. "Ben, we're not talking about a grocery store here. Any big ticket item is always open to negotiation, even a lot of little things." He waved a warning finger. "And don't you even be thinking any of that 'charity' bullshit."

"No, sir." Ben sucked on his lower lip a moment. "But this is insurance. I'm just supposed to ask this stranger to disregard his company's rules?" he asked skeptically.

Finn folded his arms and looked sternly at Ben. "Mr. Kennan, I have two assignments for you. You can't come back until you have completed both. First, you are to go to the insurance agent's office and make a serious attempt to negotiate a payment schedule. Second, you are to discuss the cash flow problem with your landlady after you have talked to the insurance agent. You will report back with the results of both tasks."

"But..." Dismay clutched Ben's gut but he wasn't sure which was worse: the nature of the tasks or the threat of not being allowed to come back.

Finn stared steadily at his student.

"Yes, sir," Ben said resignedly.

"Good. Now that that's settled, let's talk about schedules."

For several minutes they compared potential openings for future sessions, eventually deciding on several tentative dates. Finn reminded Ben that the next visit was contingent upon completion of his assigned tasks.

Ben made a muttered comment under his breath, but wisely decided to refrain from any audible thoughts. As he drained the bottle, he remembered something Finn had said at their last meeting.

"Who is Manus?"

"Right, I did promise to introduce you, didn't I?" Finn paused, took a deliberate drink of water. "Want to take a walk?"

"I suppose so."

Finn rose and stretched. "This way," he called as he headed into the woods.

The walk through the trees quickly turned into a light jog. After five minutes they climbed over a fence, then crossed a dirt access road.

"This road marks the boundary to the Wildlife Conservation Center property," Finn remarked. "I have permanent visitor privileges so it's alright for us to go in."

Another ten minutes uphill brought them to a clearing. A large tree stood at the highest point, the tall structure spreading wide and high.

Finn came to a stop and laid a hand on the rough bark of the massive trunk.

"This is Manus. He is a Bur Oak, really more native to the Black Hills, so I'm not sure how he got here. He was already old when I first met him sixteen years ago." He smiled gently as he caressed the furrowed wood. "Manus is the shepherd for this little piece of the forest. I've added a few of the hardier varieties of fruit trees to his flock over the years, apples mostly, and with the bumper crop of acorns he and his other friends produce, they create a lot of food for the animals." Finn grinned at Ben. "And me, too. I'll have to bring some of the fruit back when it's ripe."

"That certainly is a big tree." Ben craned his neck, staring up into the canopy of leaves.

"Big in size, big in heart." Finn leaped gracefully upward, swung for a moment, then hoisted himself onto a broad, sturdy branch. He settled back, leaning against the trunk. "You can come up if you like. Manus doesn't mind."

"He told you so?"

"Yes." A mischievous glint lit his eyes. "Doesn't Myrna talk to you?"

Ben looked up for a long moment. Finally he had to nod in acknowledgement. After all, Finn had made the first move to meet Myrna, so he supposed the least he could do was meet the tree, even though he felt rather ridiculous.

"Come on." Finn pointed to a branch a few feet away.

"Alright." Ben scrambled up rather less elegantly than the ranger. He was happy that the branch was quite stout, but not quite so pleased with the rough texture of the bark as he gingerly tried to get comfortable. "You come out to visit often?"

"When I can. Manus gives me energy when I'm down, and helps me think when I need to sort things out." There was a gentle smile on Finn's face as he closed his eyes. "It's remarkably peaceful out here and I love spending time with him."

There was an easy silence between them for a while, wind whispering through the trees and sun warming them. Ben thought that perhaps he might actually have felt a touch of something tickling his mind, but the sensation was fleeting.

Finn seemed content to laze on his branch, a great boneless cat sprawled against the trunk. Ben allowed himself to surreptitiously enjoy the view for a while, wishing he was the one Finn was leaning against. His hand twitched and he had to remind himself not to reach.

The branch Ben was perching on was not quite wide enough for real comfort and he found himself shifting around more and more as he grew bored. His gaze drifted to the right, back to Finn. Ben caught his breath as his cock jumped.

"Oh... my... god...," Ben whispered to himself.

Worn sweat pants had tightened as Finn's outstretched left leg had slipped off the edge of his branch. The thin tan material did little to conceal the bulge of flesh that softly reached down his thigh, a generous and very alluring prominence.

Heat flashed through Ben's body as all of his carefully repressed desires burst free. He had to remind himself to breathe as his body seemed oblivious to such mundane considerations. Ben slowly bent his right leg to conceal his groin; his left hand crept toward his crotch until it rested directly over his own organ. He could feel the warmth through the fabric as his cock swelled. Ben flicked a glance at Finn's face to make sure his eyes were still closed, then allowed himself the luxury of staring. His tongue lapped at the corner of his mouth as his hand slowly squeezed, released and squeezed again.

When an errant gust of wind shook his branch Ben was startled out of his fantasy. He lost his balance and flailed wildly for a moment before being tossed to the ground, landing on his side with a dull thud. He lay dazed for a moment.

"Ben?" A hand gently touched Ben's shoulder. "Ben, are you alright?"

A small groan escaped Ben's lips, more from the realization of his incredible stupidity than any real pain. He took a shaky breath as he rolled to his back. Blue eyes stared down at him.

"I'm fine," Ben said. He reached down to rub his hip.

"Are you sure? You came down pretty hard."

"Yeah, a few bruises maybe, but nothing serious." Ben reached for the hand extended to him and was easily hauled to his feet.

Finn peered at the branch, a puzzled expression on his face. He looked back at Ben, but didn't speak.

"I guess I wasn't paying attention and just fell off," Ben said half-heartedly. He didn't want to even think about what might have happened if Finn had seen him while he was starting to jack off.

"You were bored, weren't you?"

"Uh... yeah, I suppose so." Ben rubbed at his hip again, his eyes down to avoid Finn's gaze.

"I'm sorry. I was enjoying myself too much and wasn't paying attention." Finn sighed. "It's high time we were getting back anyway."

It was a quiet and awkward walk back. Finn tried to apologize again for neglecting him and Ben was still embarrassed about his sexual lapse. For once, Ben was actually relieved to be out of Finn's presence as he escaped on Myrna to head home.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Ten §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ben puttered in the garage far longer than was necessary after he got home on Tuesday evening. He had refolded his jacket three times, straightened tools on shelves that were already tidy and swept the clean floor. He had put off complying with Finn's requirements as long as he could, but had had little choice about going in to see the insurance agent that afternoon if he was to also fulfill his promise to Yeva. Frank Mendoza had insisted on driving him over since he knew Nicky Kalogeria from when the man had coached Little League teams two of his children had played on. The conversation had been polite as they jockeyed back and forth but Ben had not been able to make any headway until Frank gave his personal word that the bill would be paid. After that, they quickly came to an agreement to pay one half now with two more payments for the rest. Ben immediately put his money down, got his insurance certificate and they had stopped on the way back to the shop to get Myrna's registration. He was happy that hurdle was overcome, but realized he still definitely had a small core of resentment for having needed Frank's help. It was clear that he had a ways to go yet with the part about learning to accept help with grace and gratefulness.

"Well, dammit, I guess I'd better get this over with too." Ben counted out the cash he still had left, putting one hundred dollars into his left pocket and the rest into his right pocket. "At least I've got more than I thought I was going to have." He squared his shoulders and left the garage.

Heady aromas of fresh bread and a savory casserole set Ben's mouth watering as he stepped into the kitchen.

"Evening, Ben," said Jane as she looked up from the recipe cards spread across the table. "There's plenty extra tonight if you want in for supper."

Ben hesitated; the offer was tempting but he hadn't shopped for groceries lately, so with nothing to contribute in kind, thoughts of practicalities such as the high price of gas nagged at him as he fingered the tiny roll of bills in his left pocket that had to last for the next month.

"Thanks, but I'm not really very hungry." His next visit to Finn was not until Thursday, so he decided he could afford to wait one more day for the conversation with Jane. Unfortunately for Ben's timing, his stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly.

"Ben Kennan, sit down," said Jane as she swept up the cards and put them aside.

"I was just going to grab a sandwich and go downstairs –"

"I said sit your butt down, young man," Jane firmly interrupted. "We need to have a talk."

"Yes, ma'am." Ben parked himself in automatic reaction to the uncharacteristically sharp tone. He briefly wondered if this was the 'everybody pick on Ben' week and he hadn't gotten the announcement.

"Now then, I've been watching you for going on four months now, Ben Kennan." Jane folded her hands neatly on the table in front of her. "You seem like a nice young man, clean, hard-working, honest; all the folks you have worked for say they got more than fair value. And I'm not so ancient that I don't remember what it was like being young and trying to get started in life, so I haven't minded working with you on the rent and such."

"Yes, ma'am," Ben mumbled. He didn't quite know where this conversation was going, but he was pretty sure he wasn't going to like it when it got there. He shifted in his chair until a twinge in his hip reminded him of his earlier folly with Finn.

"I have also noticed that you've got enough pride to out-stubborn two mules, especially when it comes to money and to letting people help you. And I can tell when you've got a money problem you don't want to talk about, because you get this expression like you want to crawl under a rock." Jane looked sternly at her boarder. "The same expression you had when you came in tonight. Bad news doesn't get better hiding under that rock with you, so start talking."

Ben looked away, cleared his throat, looked down at the table. He felt like a teenager again, caught out in some prank, only ten times worse.

"Well?"

"Umm... about the money I said I would have for you..." Ben dug around in his right pocket and pulled out the crumpled bills. "I didn't know I had to get my motorcycle registered this soon, and I had to get new insurance..." He smoothed the money out flat, stared down at it. "I need to hold some for gas and food, and, well, I just don't have what I promised. I'm sorry." He shoved the small pile across the table. "I'll make up what I can out of my next couple of checks."

"Ben, why didn't you want to talk to me about it? We can work this out, you know." Jane left the bills untouched.

"I guess I didn't want you to be disappointed in me. I'll try to find a second job to make some extra money." Ben chewed on his lower lip miserably.

"Don't be silly. The only thing I'm disappointed in is that you didn't think you could talk to me about it." Jane shook her head. "You showed me your schedule, though, and it won't be easy to find much except odd jobs with those rotating days and hours. Especially now, after most of the summer and night jobs are already spoken for."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry." Ben hung his head, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Don't sit there like a pathetic lump," Jane said briskly. "Do you really want to work off some of your debt?"

"Yes, ma'am." Ben looked up. "I do."

"I have a proposition for you. I'm starting to get a little too creaky for some of the heavy work, so I need somebody to do the manual labor in the garden for the rest of the summer. For every full hour of proper work you put in, I'll take $7 off your bill or off your current rent after you get caught up."

"The garden?" Ben stared for moment. The term 'garden' seemed quite an understatement; in his eyes it was a huge plot of land that extended well past the barn and into the edge of the trees. That was not his main concern, though. "I don't know anything about gardening." A horrible thought came to him. "I've never even had a house plant. What if I kill things?"

"I'll show you what to look for, so don't be worrying about that." Jane smiled. "You just concern yourself with the weeding, thinning, watering, keeping the fence fixed and those sorts of things. It's still early, so there's not that much to do now, but come this summer through October you'll have plenty of opportunities to get some hours in."

Ben looked down at the money on the table and swallowed. "I'm not sure I know what a real weed looks like," he said weakly.

"By this fall I think we will have taken care of that problem quite thoroughly," Jane said with a droll grin. "I'll teach you the best times to water, how much and where, how to thin the plants, how to clear the rows and how to harvest. You won't get anything much more flexible, so are you in or out, Ben Kennan?"

"We both may end up regretting this deal," Ben said as he shook his head, "but, yes, ma'am, I guess I'm in." He managed to summon a small grin. "Just call me Farmer Ben."

**************** ***************

Ben parked Myrna and turned off the engine. He stepped off, removed his helmet, yawned and stretched. It was early but he decided that six-thirty was still a lot better than four in the morning. Ben had spent the last few evenings reproaching himself for his stupidity and what might have happened after their last session if Finn had seen him in the tree; he took a moment to sternly remind himself to stick to business and keep his eyes above waist level. He then doffed his gear and grabbed his notebook before heading around the side of the small house.

"Hey, what's doing?" Ben said. He had to push aside a sleeping bag in order to sit down at the table.

"Morning," Finn mumbled around a mouthful of cereal. He swallowed. "Sorry, I went on a longer run than I had planned this morning so I'm a bit behind. Would you like some juice or tea?" He waved vaguely at a thermal pot, bottle of juice and an extra mug.

"Sure, thanks." Ben poured orange juice into the mug.

Finn shoveled down the last couple of spoons of cereal. He set the bowl aside and took a sip of tea.

"Do you live out here or something?" Ben grinned as he poked the sleeping bag.

"Actually, when the weather is nice, I do spend a lot of time outdoors. It's very peaceful sleeping with the trees."

"Ooookaay." Ben shrugged. "I've slept out when I had to, but I can't say I saw the attraction. To each his own, I guess." He raised the mug and started to take a drink. Suddenly he froze, his eyes wide.

"Something wrong?" Finn raised an eyebrow.

"Ssssnake!" Ben lifted one finger from his death grip on the mug. "Next to you!" he hissed.

Finn looked to his right and casually picked up the long smooth body poking its wedge-shaped head above the edge of the table. He dropped the snake onto the center of the table, where it curled itself into a few loose swirls.

"Jesus Christ!" Ben scrambled backwards, almost falling on his butt, mug dropped in the grass. He stopped several feet away. "What the hell is that thing?"

"That is Harry." Finn poured the remains of the milk from his bowl into a shallow saucer. The snake slithered over and began lapping up the milk.

"And what is a Harry?" Ben demanded, keeping his distance.

"Harry is a Western Terrestrial Garter Snake." Finn stroked the long brown body along the yellow stripe down its back. "He lives under the house and does a great job keeping down mice and other sorts of pests." Finn looked at Ben, smiled a little. "Do sit down. Harry is quite harmless."

Ben cautiously sidled back and perched on the edge of the bench. "He's awfully big."

"Harry has lived here for several years." Finn looked a bit wistful. "I can't keep pets because my hours can get pretty irregular, so I suppose Harry is about the closest thing I have."

"Does he stay outside?"

"Mostly." Finn grinned. "He did wander inside one time when I had left the doors open. Scared the bejesus out of the woman who was visiting. I thought I had lost an eardrum when she started screaming." He shook his head. "She would never come back after that."

Harry finished his milk and stretched his upper body out.

"Would you like to pet him? He likes to have that spot just behind his head scratched."

"That's quite alright," said Ben firmly.

Finn tenderly scritched his friend's itchy spot for a few moments. Finally he picked him up and carried him over to the edge of the woodline and put him down. Returning to the table, he cleared everything but his mug of tea into a crate at the end of the table.

"I'll take things in later." He stood next to Ben and took a sip. "So, let's get down to business. Did you do your homework, Mr. Kennan?"

"Yes, sir." Ben relaxed finally, although he couldn't help taking a last quick glance toward the trees.

"Good. We'll talk after the session." Finn drained his mug, then led the way to the open grass.

An hour later the two men returned to the table. Finn pulled two bottles of water from his cooler and they sat down to drink.

"You're coming along nicely. I think we'll have you up to doing some actual movements soon." Finn scribbled a few notes in the book. "Hip still sore?"

"A little stiff, but the worst of the bruises are almost gone."

"So, tell me how it went with the insurance agent." Finn kept writing.

"Okay, I guess."

Finn looked up, raised an eyebrow.

"My boss, Frank Mendoza, insisted on taking me when he found out why I was asking for a long lunch break. Seems he knew the insurance person from Little League." Ben paused, looked out at the trees for a moment. "I wasn't making any headway trying to talk down the initial payment. Finally Frank offered to guarantee extended payments, so the man let me pay half up front with the rest in two more monthly payments. I paid, he gave me the insurance certificate, and we stopped to put in the registration on the way back to the shop. That part is all taken care of."

"How do you feel about your boss helping you?"

"I was grateful, of course."

"And?"

Ben sucked on a tooth for a while before answering. "I was a little resentful also. He's already done a lot for me; Frank was the one who pushed to get me the full-time position. It just seems like I have a debt to him that keeps getting bigger."

"What are you going to do about that feeling?"

"I think... maybe the right thing to do is work even harder for him... try to pay him back the only way I really can."

"That sounds like a good thing." Finn closed the notebook and folded his hands on the table. "And did you talk to your landlady?"

Ben took a breath to reply, held it for a moment, then let it out slowly as he stared down at the table. He waited another long moment before quietly speaking. "It was more like she talked to me."

Finn cocked his head and waited patiently.

"I must have some sort of neon sign that lights up when I'm worried about money," said Ben to the table. He put his hands under his thighs. "She knew something was up almost as soon as I walked into the kitchen."

"What did she have to say?"

"I tried to apologize for not having the money I had promised. We ended up talking about how I might be able to get another job of some sort but it didn't seem very promising." Ben pulled his hands out and rested his forearms on the table. "I was feeling pretty bad and willing to try almost anything... she offered a credit of seven dollars an hour against the bill to do the heavy work in her garden for the rest of the summer."

"Did you say garden?"

"Yes, sir, I said garden." Ben looked up under his eyebrows to see Finn struggling to hide a grin. He pursed his lips.

"I am having a great deal of difficulty picturing you nurturing tender young plants."

"I tried to warn her, but she wouldn't listen." Ben raised his head and scowled. "Alright, dammit, go ahead and laugh. Get it out before you bust a gut trying to stifle it."

Ben crossed his arms across his chest and waited as Finn dissolved into quiet mirth.

"Jaysus." Finn took a long drink of water. "That was just too hard to resist." A muffled snerk escaped from behind the hand over his mouth.

"If you are QUITE finished, Mr. Finn?" Ben's glare could have melted rocks.

"Yes, sorry." Finn took a couple of deep breaths to compose himself. "So you're going to do weeding and watering and such to work off your debt?"

"Yes." Ben took a deep breath of his own. "It has the advantage of being flexible so I can do the work no matter what hours I'm working at Midway."

"How do you feel about the arrangement?"

"I don't mind the physical work, but I can't say I'm very comfortable with being responsible for taking care of the plants. I keep having this vision of rows of dead black husks." Ben shook his head and gave a small shudder. "But I need to try to make it work; I owe it to Jane." He looked straight at Finn. "I feel better about what's going on with Jane than with Frank. I've been trying to apply some of the things you've been telling me," Ben said earnestly. "With Frank, well, he's my boss and it's hard to think of how I can pay him back, but I can do some tangible things for Jane, see some real results of my work. I'm finding I like that and I don't really mind so much accepting help from her. Is that going in the right direction?"

Finn looked at Ben, his expression carefully controlled as he rocked back a tiny bit. He shifted his gaze out to the trees.

"Ben..."

"Yes, sir?" Ben felt a twinge of uncertainty tickling his spine as silence lengthened. "Is something wrong?"

"I've been doing some thinking," Finn said slowly, "and I need to ask you a question, if you don't mind." He swung his eyes back to look directly at his companion.

"Of course." The twinge along his backbone turned to a knot growing in Ben's gut.

"After our last session, it occurred to me that I had jumped pretty deeply into your personal life without even thinking about it. It was very presumptuous to be ordering you to do things like go talk to the insurance agent."

"I didn't object."

"Perhaps not, but I've been trying to consider just how this relationship is developing." Finn leaned forward, tension hunching his shoulders. "Teaching and asking questions is one thing, but I don't want to be pushing too far into places where you're not wanting me to go or that are not really any of my business. We didn't talk much about this when we started, but I need to understand what sort of boundaries are comfortable for both of us." Finn's eyes turned a shade darker. "Where is the line you don't want me crossing?"

Ben felt frozen for what seemed an interminable moment. The only limits he truly cared about were the ones he didn't dare to bring up. He bought some time by draining the last of the water in his bottle and carefully setting it aside.

"I suppose I would have to say there are not very many things that might be off limits," said Ben slowly. "After all, I'm the one who came to you to try to figure out why I felt so screwed up." Ben rubbed his fingertips against the grain of the wood in the table. "I know we've only been doing this for a few weeks, but I respect and appreciate the help you're trying to give me, even if I don't always understand what you say. I've needed some pushing and poking to help deal with some of my issues or I might have just kept drifting along without any thoughts of a purpose to my life."

"I do feel responsible for you, and I like working with you, but I don't want to continually ride roughshod over you, or for you to be doing things only to please me without understanding why you're doing them. I think you've seen that I can get carried away sometimes, so I have to know that you really will tell me if you need me to give you some space on a particular issue."

"I will," Ben raised his head to look squarely at Finn, "but I also need you to keep giving me those kicks in the ass if you think I'm being stupid about something or just trying to avoid a problem because I don't want to deal with it."

"Don't worry, that's not something I have a problem with." Finn smiled. "And I know it's probably not the kind of thing men are supposed to say to one another, but I like you and I think we could become good friends."

Ben turned his head away and shrugged his shoulders. "I'd like that," he said quietly. He glanced up, an awkward smile on his lips. "Thanks."

"We'll see how much you like me after I've turned you into a pincushion with all the poking." Finn stood and stretched. "I've got some appointments I should be leaving for shortly."

"I need to get ready to go to work myself." Ben stood, grabbed his notebook. "We still on for Sunday morning?"

"Right. After the session we'll take a run and stop by the Conservation Center. Also, if you're interested I'll be doing a music recording session at UPA for Sandy Friday evening, a week from tomorrow."

"That would be great," Ben said as they began walking around the house. "I'll be there. Armand has been promising me a chance to help run the equipment, so I'll ask him if I can do that while you're recording."

A warm glow vanquished Ben's earlier apprehension as he rode home.

"He likes me. He likes me." Ben hugged that phrase to himself the entire trip, a smile beaming under his helmet.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Two Chapters Eleven through Nineteen  
> See Notes for beginning of story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Eleven §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Myrna was wheeled out and carefully propped on her kick stand. Ben pulled the garage door closed, then paused to glance at the empty spot in the carport. The day before everyone had pitched in to finish packing up Cynthia Vernon's belongings and loading them into her car and her fiancé's pickup. Ben smiled wistfully as he remembered how much in love Cynthia and Ricky had seemed to be; they were constantly touching, calling each other pet names, or kissing. His smile slid away as he thought how unlikely it seemed that he would ever be able to attain such happiness with his own object of desire. Ben sighed, took one last look as he straddled Myrna, and headed out for his Sunday morning session.

"You are doing a good job on the stances. When you can hold each one for a full three minutes, we'll start on the first movement. Remember, you want to stay loose but focused, and work from the center of your body." Finn made a few more notes in Ben's book.

"I think I'm starting to get the hang of some of this, even the breathing exercises." Ben took a long drink of water.

"It will come," said Finn. "You just have to keep working on it, a little bit at a time." He closed the book. "Ready for a little run?"

"Yes, sir."

"Let's go."

The two men headed out into the forest, quickly encountering a dirt access road. Finn started at an easy tempo, but soon increased to a demanding pace. Ben managed to keep up, but he was beginning to feel the strain by the time they had covered four miles along winding back trails. He was more than happy to stop when they came to the entrance of the Wildlife Conservation Center. He used the front of his t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his face as he recovered his breath; he got a tiny bit of satisfaction in noting that Finn had at least broken a good sweat in the heat of the summer morning.

Finn pushed open the gate in the wire fence and they walked up the entrance road toward four one-story wooden buildings. Ben could see several large pens; beyond those were two large barns and more enclosures spreading into the surrounding trees. An asphalt parking lot held a half dozen cars and trucks.

They entered the main building, where a reception area had a counter and a few desks. Hallways to the left and right led to offices and, judging by the smell, a veterinary area.

"Mr. Finn, good to see you." A teenager in a wolf t-shirt and denim shorts stood up to greet them.

"Good to see you too, Mitchell."

A crash sounded from the left, followed by a rapid clattering noise.

"Somebody stop that fawn!"

A small brown and white body shot from the hallway and skidded on the tile floor. Ben had barely started to move when Finn swooped in and gathered the fleeing animal into his arms. Long spindly legs thrashed wildly for a moment before the youngling collapsed into a trembling heap against Finn's chest. A long gash on its shoulder dripped blood and there were several smaller cuts on its face and chest. Floppy ears twitched as Finn murmured soothingly.

"Where's the... oh, there you are," said a thin, compact woman with short gray hair. "Thanks, Qui. Bring it on back to the treatment room."

Ben trailed along and stood silently in the doorway as Finn carefully placed the young animal on a long steel table, where it tried to struggle to its feet.

"Can you hold her still, please? I want to get a local anesthetic on before I stitch up those cuts."

"Of course, Joanie." The beast quieted under Finn's gentle touch and lay still, panting heavily. "Looks like a new one."

"Yes, one of the volunteers brought her in this morning. He couldn't find the mother." The woman swiftly cleansed the wound and sewed up the torn skin.

"Okay, let her rest a bit before we take her out to a pen." She pulled off her latex gloves and tossed them in a container. "It was a good thing you were there, Qui. She's a lively little thing and could have hurt herself even more running around." She nodded at Ben. "You talk another victim into volunteering?"

"Joanie, I don't have victims. They are all fine upstanding citizens eager to do the right thing," said Finn with mock indignation as he slowly stroked the neck of the fawn. "But no, this is Ben Kennan. I've been teaching him Tai Chi. We were out for a run this fine morning to work on our conditioning and I thought it would be nice to stop by and let him see your place." He turned toward Ben. "Ben, this is Dr. Joan Spangler, the director of the center. Her husband, Barry, is also a vet and helps out in his spare time."

"Pleased to meet you," Joan said, firmly shaking Ben's hand.

"Same here." Ben gestured around. "So what exactly does your group do?"

"We are a non-profit organization devoted to conserving wildlife and habitat. We educate, provide rescue assistance for injured animals, and work with a number of federal, government, and private organizations to further our goals." Joan pointed at Finn. "We rely on volunteers like Qui to help with animal care, to put together our programs, all sorts of things. We get our funding mostly through grants and donations."

"They do some good work here," Finn said quietly. "Joanie and her crew have really made a difference." He smiled. "She's even gotten good at meetings and speechifying."

Joan grimaced in disgust. "I wish we didn't have to spend so much time on that sort of thing, but it can't be helped." She did a quick check of the fawn. "Qui, would you bring the fawn out to the holding pens in building two? We can take a quick tour of the rest of the buildings after that."

Finn cradled the frightened creature close to his chest, scratching behind its ears and crooning a low-voiced lullaby. When they reached a set of wooden pens, he tenderly placed the fawn into the straw, his large hands deftly laying it down without disturbing the new stitches.

Ben watched the gentle expression on Finn's face, the pleased smile and light in his eyes as the large brown orbs looked up at him trustingly. He noted the skill with which Finn softly stroked the animal's head, lulling it into sleep. Ben sighed, wishing those hands could caress him with that same pleasure.

"She'll be fine," Finn said softly as he stepped back out of the pen and closed the gate.

"Damn, I wish I could handle the animals like you do, Qui." Joan shook her head as they began walking down the row of pens.

"Ahhgh, you just have to understand and respect their natures," Finn said with a self-deprecating shrug. "Why don't you tell Ben about the F 'n F and some of the other programs?"

As they walked through the different buildings and past the small and large outdoor enclosures, Joan enthusiastically described their work with threatened and endangered species, the conservation programs for elk, moose, wolves and birds, and working toward a balance of man and nature. It was evident that her favorite was Fur and Feathers, a traveling program where they took several animals who were either in rehabilitation or too damaged to live on their own around to schools and other events as part of their education outreach. She was still talking when they got back to the entrance to the Center.

"You know, after all these years I still can't decide which makes me feel better; being able to return an animal to the wild or seeing the light come on in a child's eyes at the F 'n F."

"It's all good work," said Finn. "But we'll be needing to get back. I appreciate you taking the time to show Ben around, Joanie."

"No problem, Qui. Will you be at the 4th of July fair this year?"

"Of course, probably at least three, maybe all four days." Finn hugged Joan. "Take care. Good-bye."

Joan waved as the two men walked down the drive.

"Hope that didn't bore you too much," Finn said as they stopped by the gate to do some stretches. "I love Joanie and the work she does, but sometimes her zeal can be a little exhausting."

"No, that was actually interesting. My sister was into some of the conservation causes, but I had never really thought about it much." Ben leaned into a stretch. "You certainly seem to think the work's worthwhile."

"It is, and I enjoy it, too." Finn straightened, slapped Ben on the shoulder. He started walking down the road. "Come on, let's see if you can keep up on the way back, boyo."

"You're on." Ben grinned as they broke into a steady run.

**************** ***************

After work on Wednesday, Ben took advantage of the warm afternoon sun to put Myrna out on the front grass and give her a thorough cleaning. He washed every part of her, even inside the panniers, picked out little bits of grit and removed road tar, put preservative on the seat, and slowly applied polish. He enjoyed the feel of the soft cloth on the metal as he buffed the paint and brightwork, relishing every newly gleaming inch as he felt Myrna preening under his gentle touch. Ben was so preoccupied that he didn't notice the dusty Subaru SUV as it crept up the driveway until it stopped almost next to him. He straightened and went to the driver's door.

"Can I help you?" Ben asked.

A thin young woman with black hair peered uncertainly out the open window; dark circles under her brown eyes made her look older than she probably was. She consulted a small piece of paper before answering.

"Hi. Is this where a Mrs. Jane Brandon lives? I was told she might have a room to rent."

"Yes and yes." Ben smiled. "I'm Ben Kennan; I live down cellar with Mrs. Brandon, but one of her upstairs boarders left just a few days ago. Come on, I'll take you in."

"Thanks. I'm Rafa Romero, by the way." She put a hand out the window and they shook.

The newcomer parked and Ben led the way through the open garage door toward the kitchen. Dexy and Delilah woofed at her as they went through the laundry room but didn't follow them as they passed through.

"Mrs. Brandon? It's Ben. You've got a visitor."

Jane came in with her bag of knitting and put it on a counter. "Hello, I'm Jane Brandon. What can I do for you?" she asked as she extended a hand.

"My name is Rafaela Romero, but people call me Rafa." She shook Jane's hand. "I heard that you might have a room to rent?"

"Yes, I do. Please sit down. Would you like some coffee or something?"

"Water would be fine, if it's no trouble," Rafa said as she sat at the table.

"Ben, would you get everybody some water, please? You can join us if you like."

Ben had been edging toward the doorway, uncertain if he should stay or go, but curious about the newcomer. He quickly pulled out a pitcher of cold water from the refrigerator, got three glasses and joined the two women at the table.

"Thank you, Ben." Jane took the proffered glass. "Now then, Rafa, what exactly are you looking for?"

"I will be starting at the university here this fall, and I wanted to find a place to stay. I'm pretty quiet, I don't party or drink, and I like being away from town, so I didn't want to stay in the dorms or an apartment. I've got a car, so it doesn't really matter how far it is to school. I would like to have a room to myself rather than having a roommate."

"I do have a single room upstairs; you'd be sharing a bathroom with Tammy Martin, the young woman who has the other single room. I can show you the room if you like the rate." She smiled at her other boarder. "Ben is downstairs and has his own bathroom down there. Does that sound like it would work for you?"

"Actually, there is one other thing I haven't been able to find anywhere else," Rafa said. She licked her lips nervously. "It's really why I was so interested in your place."

"And what is that?"

"I was hoping to also find a home for Celesta, my horse, so we could be together instead of having to board her out somewhere."

"A horse?"

"Yes, she is young but has good manners and is not very big." Rafa continued quickly, the words almost tumbling out. "I would take care of her myself so she wouldn't be any trouble. I raised her from a baby and she is really a very nice horse and –"

"It's alright," Jane said with a smile, holding up one hand. "I think we can work something out if she doesn't mind occasionally sharing space with dogs and cats. The far end of my barn was left as stalls and storage when we converted part of the barn to cages for boarding animals; we could put Celesta in the end stall."

"That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I promise you won't regret it."

"We've got plenty of room for both of you, and I'm sure everything will be fine." Jane paused to let Rafa take a sip of water. "Do you know when you would want to move in?"

"Actually, as soon as possible. My priest at home referred me to Reverend Jenkins; I've already talked to him, and he said you keep a good, clean house, so if we could just agree on the rent, I'd like to get started."

"That was nice of the Reverend, but I'm just a bit curious, if you don't mind. Classes don't generally start until the end of August or first week of September; if you want to wait at home, I can hold the room for you if you have the security deposit."

"No, I appreciate the offer, but I need to move in now." Rafa hesitated, took a deep breath. "I don't have a home to go back to... we had a small ranch down past Gerard, but there was a fire... " Her hand tightened around the water glass. "The rest of my family died..." She swallowed before continuing. "I can pay if you are worried about that. I already had an academic scholarship and now I've got the insurance money. I told the agent to sell the ranch. It's not a place where I ever want to live again."

"I understand, dear." Jane leaned over to pat Rafa's hand. "I know you must be going through a pretty tough time, so you just let us know what we can do to help you get settled."

They chatted about rent and the house rules for a few moments, but Rafa's heart clearly wasn't in the discussion so they quickly came to terms.

Ben watched as they worked out schedules and a price for the boarding, throwing in an offer to help clean out the space in the barn. Rafa was staying with friends and decided to go back to finish paperwork; she would come up the following week to get everything ready for Celesta and she already had an offer from one of her father's fellow ranchers to lend a trailer to bring the horse to join her in a few weeks once she had a home for both of them. Rafa wrote out a check for the security deposit and the first month's rent. She continued to thank Jane as they went back out the front door.

"Poor thing, it's a rough go when you lose family so sudden like that. She's going to be a mite fragile for a while," Jane said softly as they watched Rafa's car disappear among the trees. "We'll just have to take care of her, won't we, Ben?"

It took Ben a second to react. "We?"

"Well, Tammy's never liked the winters here, and she's been talking about moving to California for ages." Jane still stared down the driveway. "I think she's serious this time; I doubt she'll be around much past September. So that leaves you and me." She smiled as she turned toward Ben. "Assuming you survive the garden, young man, I was hoping you might be a keeper, at least for a goodly spell."

There was a strange tightness in Ben's throat at this unexpected announcement. He swallowed as he tried to find some words to express himself, resorting to humor to hide his feelings.

"Well, I was kind of thinking about inflicting myself on you for quite a while, if you can put up with me."

"I reckon I can still manage a young rapscallion like you," said Jane briskly. "So are you in or out for supper tonight?"

"I'm in, ma'am," said Ben with a crooked smile, "I'm in."

Ben felt a warm glow at being included; he hummed a happy little tune as he went downstairs to change into his workout clothes.

**************** ***************

A battered pickup bypassed several empty parking spots to pull in next to a young man sitting on a motorcycle.

"Good evening," Finn called as he came around the back of his vehicle.

"Hey, good to see you." Ben pulled off his helmet to reveal a huge grin.

"You look remarkably happy tonight." Finn leaned against the front fender.

Ben dismounted, unzipped his jacket, and went to stand next to Finn.

"I feel good, really good. It's a beautiful evening and I'm about to have fun doing something useful with people I like." Ben dared to lean in closer. "And guess what?"

"Surprise me," Finn said with an answering smile.

"My landlady thinks I'm a keeper." Ben laughed, a cheery note floating over the lot.

Finn rubbed his chin and cast a jaundiced eye up and down Ben's form. "I dunno, you look awful small... I might have to advise her to throw you back." He shook his head and held his mournful stare long enough to draw an indignant squawk from his victim. Finn broke into a grin and threw a mock punch at Ben's chin.

"Alright, what mischief are you boys getting into tonight?" Sandy came up behind them.

"There's no mischief, marm," Finn drawled as he drew himself up to his full height. "We is good boys, we is."

"Ach, don't be wasting your blarney on me," Sandy gibed back in a fake Irish accent. "There's work to be done, so be getting on with you, now."

"Begorra, why so there is," Finn responded in an even deeper parody of his own accent.

All three of them laughed at the byplay. Finn gave Sandy a casual hug before opening the passenger door of his truck and retrieving a large pack. He slung it over his shoulder as they headed for the building.

Ben loved seeing this side of Finn and was feeling so mellow that even his constant background ache of hidden love was forgotten. He perched on a desk and watched with a smile as the usual crowd of people seemed to magically gather when Finn appeared, enjoying the show.

Tommy Diaz burst into the room, his bright smile on prominent display. "Hey, dude!"

It took Ben a moment to realize that Tommy was heading for him, not Finn. "Hey yourself, what's up, guy?"

"Dude, you are AWESOME!" exploded across the rapidly decreasing intervening distance.

"What did I do?" Ben returned the high five as Tommy swung around next to him.

"DO? Dude, you got us one of the biggest co-op deals the comp sci department has ever had!"

"I'm a little confused here," said Ben, "I still don't understand what I'm supposed to have done."

"That Ruger place, man." Tommy waved a hand. "Doc Salazar took a team of us out there to look at that piece of shit they got for a system. I'm telling you, the idiots that built it sure didn't do those people any favors." He paused. "Hey, you really work for that woman Margaret Jones?"

"Not directly, but yes, she's a co-owner of Midway Motorcycles."

"Wow, you got more balls than me, man, even being in the same freaking building with her. That woman is mega-scary." Tommy shuddered.

"Come on, Tommy, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Look, here's the deal. We went out to Ruger's to look at that crap they got, and the Jones lady, she says that this guy of theirs named Kennan claims we can fix the problem. So the Doc gives 'em our pitch, and they signed us up to take the Midway system and adapt it for Ruger. If they like it, we got options for the add-ons for both Midway and Ruger." Tommy waved both arms enthusiastically. "There's enough work for both my senior thesis and a master's project. AND they're gonna pay us. This is one sweet deal, and you got us in the door to get it."

Ben looked up. Across the room he met Finn's eyes, and saw Finn smile and give a small nod of approval. His heart leaped for a moment.

"Congratulations, Tommy. But, hey, you earned it; I only threw out the suggestion because I knew a little about the work you're doing for UPA."

"Thanks, dude. This is gonna be so sweet! We are gonna build them a system that kicks ass." Tommy wheeled around the room, chattering to anyone who would listen.

Three hours later, Ben was still high. He had gotten another chance to see Finn in action while he and Fred, the intern, had been allowed to operate the equipment themselves for almost the entire recording session. Armand had even asked him if he wanted to start working live shows.

"That's everything." Finn gathered his pack containing the records, tapes and CDs he had brought in. He looked up at the wall clock. "It's getting late. If you're finished here, Sandy, Ben and I can walk you down to the parking lot if you like."

"Sure, just let me grab my bag. The guys finishing the last of the live shows will lock up."

They chatted amiably during the elevator ride down.

"Great session, gentlemen," said Sandy. "It was nice of you to bring all that music in, Qui."

"It was no trouble, and I enjoyed myself."

"And you, Ben – Armand told me you've really picked up the system fast."

The elevator door opened and they went out into the hall.

"Once you understand how it's supposed to work, it's mostly just a matter of practice. It was fun, and I'll try to see if I can come in a bit more often."

A raucous, jeering laugh from near the front of the building interrupted them.

Finn frowned. "I don't like the sound of that." He swung his pack off and thrust it into Ben's arms. "Stay with Sandy while I check it out. Don't go outside." He headed down the hallway, moving into a run when they heard the sound of thudding boots followed by a crash.

Ben and Sandy looked at each other as silence fell after Finn disappeared. They cautiously walked down the hall, pausing to peer around the corner before stepping forward.

"God!" gasped Sandy as her face turned white and she grabbed Ben's arm.

The entrance to the building was a mess. One of the glass doors had been smashed; swastikas and profanities had been spray-painted across the walls. A stack of campus newspapers had been torn and strewn about.

There was a large bulletin board along one wall. Some of the flyers had been torn down, many of the rest defaced.

Ben moved down to the end of the board, glass crunching under his feet. Across a large poster for the Gay and Lesbian Alliance announcing an upcoming picnic, a heavy black marker had been used to scrawl the words "Kill the Fucking Faggots" and "Burn the Lesbo Bitches."

"Those sorry bastards," muttered Ben. He dropped the pack as his stomach clenched with nausea; all of his earlier happiness slid away into a greasy pit of disgust at this jarring reminder of how much mindless hate still existed. With a surge of anger, he reached up to rip the paper from the wall.

"Leave it." A large hand held Ben's wrist motionless.

"How can you even look at that shit, let alone let it stay there?" Ben tried to pull free but to no avail.

"I said leave it." Finn held the younger man in place, increasing the pressure on his wrist until it was painfully tight. "This has to be reported and they need to be able to take pictures just as it is."

Ben stared at him for a moment, his jaw set and eyes burning, struggling to take a deep breath. He swallowed, then took another breath before he was able to mutter, "Yes, sir."

Finn watched him for another few seconds before releasing him. "Sorry about that, but I couldn't have you destroying evidence."

"I understand." Ben rubbed his wrist. "I wasn't thinking."

"Let's go outside and we can wait while I call this in," Finn said as he shepherded the other two outdoors.

Sandy and Ben sat on a bench while Finn used his cell phone to notify the campus police. He spent some time looking at the scene through the smashed door before joining his friends.

"I don't understand how people can do things like this," Sandy said. She still looked pale.

"They're ignorant sons-of-bitches." There was a hard edge to Finn's voice. "In this case, equal opportunity arseholes. They got the GLA, the Jewish Students Union, the Islamic Brotherhood and the Students for Academic Freedom, to name a few." He got up to pace slowly back and forth.

Ben had picked up Finn's pack before they left the building; he hugged it tightly to his chest as he stared down at the sidewalk. His gut roiled and he wanted to lash out, to hit something, anything. His fists clenched tight around the straps of the pack, but he was only vaguely aware of the pain of his nails digging into his palms.

A hand dropped onto Ben's shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Finn asked softly.

"That kind of shit..." Ben shook his head without looking up. "It's just so fucking wrong."

"I know."

Anything further Finn might have said was cut short by the arrival of the police. Ben and Sandy waited as the scene was secured and photographed. They were both asked for statements but could add very little to the detailed account Finn provided of the activities, descriptions and license plate number of the vandals.

Ben fingered the heavy leather of the old pack as he watched Finn. This episode had savagely reminded him that he was different, a difference that would probably keep him from ever having the kind of relationship he yearned for with Quilan Finn. He rested his chin on the top of the pack and buried his misery inside.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Twelve §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The ugliness at the UPA building had soured Ben's fragile happiness with the new life he was trying to build. It was the first time he had encountered such an overt display of bigotry here, and it jolted him more than he liked to admit. He had little time to brood, however, as he was caught up in a busy round of activities both at work and at home. The entire town seemed to be talking about nothing but the rapidly approaching Fourth of July Roundup. Midway was no exception as they began a final surge of preparations for the big display they always had. At home Ben got his first lessons in gardening, learning about the watering schedule, the tools and techniques for keeping weeds and pests away and the wondrous joys of compost heaps and their carbon/nitrogen ratios. He drove himself harder in his exercises to fill in any spare time he might otherwise have had and lulled himself to sleep at night with recordings of Finn's voice.

Sunday morning at breakfast, Tammy had mentioned the story in the newspaper about the vandalism; Ben had been surprised by the vehemence with which Jane had excoriated the thugs, as she had called them. Ben managed to get in a short session with Finn early on Tuesday morning, during which they concentrated on the Tai Chi drills. Finn took some time to reassure Ben that violence at the college was unusual and the sentiments he had seen in the scrawled profanities were held by a relatively small minority in this particular area. Sandy had also called to let Ben know that the building was already being cleaned up and that there was a great deal of anger among the UPA staffers about the assault occurring in their own home, so to speak. Although his friends were clearly concerned with the general ugliness of the incident that marred their community, Ben was reminded that the people he cared about were tolerant of diversity and condemned prejudice. It helped to ease the pain of the reminder of his past problems and bring it into perspective. He still was not in any hurry to come out of his own closet, but he renewed his determination not to let his emotions destroy the rest of his life and was able to start putting his feelings, especially those about Finn, back into an internal box where he could control them.

The sun was bright and warm on Thursday morning when the Roundup opened at ten o'clock. Ben had already been there for an hour helping with the last-minute preparations for the Midway exhibit. He paused to look around; the large covered area had motorcycles, dirt bikes, accessories for sale, tables with brochures, video displays, tables and chairs for customers and staff, several large coolers of water and soft drinks, and the two huge helmets used to hold the tickets for the hourly drawings for merchandise and for the daily drawing of big-ticket items. A large trailer behind the exhibit had more bikes, merchandise, ice chests and cases of drinks. Tony Carmine was in his element bustling around overseeing the crew in their Midway polo shirts and caps, adjusting the volume of the music, straightening a display, re-positioning a bike and beaming like a Cheshire cat. Harley-Davidson flags flapped gently in the small breeze.

"Here, Tony said everybody should make sure they drink enough water." Mattie handed Ben a bottle of cold water.

"Thanks. You've been to these things before. What's it like?" Ben took a sip of water.

"This is about the biggest thing that happens during the summer, even bigger than the county fair in the fall. There will be thousands of people from all over, regulars and tourists. There's tons of exhibits and rides, a rodeo, four stages of music going all day. When I was in high school I used to work some of the fund-raising food booths a day or two every year and we stayed busy all the time, especially in the afternoon and evenings. Tony promised everybody at least a couple of breaks every day, so you should check it out."

"I thought that today I'll mostly just see what's out there, since I'll be back here on Saturday and Sunday."

"You better take advantage of being back in the shop on Friday to rest up. Even though we've got shade, it gets hot and the hours are really long."

"I don't mind and it sounds like fun."

"You mean you don't mind the overtime pay," Mattie said as she gave him a friendly poke in the side.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to turn it down," Ben answered with a big grin.

Mattie wrinkled her nose, but Tony called everyone over for final instructions before she could reply, so she contented herself with sticking her tongue out.

By one-thirty Ben was ready for a break. Even on a weekday, the promised crowds had begun to materialize by eleven and Ben had stayed constantly busy answering questions about the various models, helping with merchandise and keeping things tidied up. Tony swung by between glad-handing visitors and told him to take an hour.

Ben grabbed a bottle of water and headed out into the exhibit area. Finn had mentioned that the Forest Service group would be set up next to the Wildlife Conservation Center and that is where he would be spending at least some of his time. Ben found the exhibits, but there was no sign of the ranger, so he decided to wait a while. He stood reading one of the large poster boards in the Forest Service portion of the exhibit:

The Keogami National Forest supports six species of amphibians, six species of reptiles, 74 species of mammals, 355 species of birds, and 25 species of fish. Wild animals survive because they have learned where and how to find food, where to rest and sleep in safety, and where to raise their families. Getting too close to wildlife can be dangerous. Observe animals from a distance without disturbing them.

"You'd be surprised how many people disregard that part about not trying to get close," a pleasant voice said.

Ben looked to his left. "Don't worry, I'm happy to keep my distance." He smiled at the young woman in the green and grey uniform.

"Is there something I can help you with? The Keogami has a lot of different things to do and see. We also have a lot of job and volunteer opportunities."

"Actually, I was just looking for Ranger Finn," said Ben. "He said he'd be here today and I thought this might be a good place to find him."

"I know he's already reported in today, but I'm not sure where he is at the moment since he's helping with security for the entire Roundup. I imagine he'll try to swing by for the next Fur n' Feathers show at two."

"Thanks." Ben nodded. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost ten minutes to two. He moved over to the edge of the Wildlife Conservation Center exhibit to wait. There were several cages of smaller birds and mammals, two big tanks of fish, and large colorful posters; several volunteers stood guard answering questions. From behind a covered area there came an occasional squeal, grunt or other odd sound. There was a large open space roped off; the several benches facing the open area were already filling in anticipation, and the chattering of excited children filled the air.

Ben looked away and his breath caught at the sight of a tall rangy figure gliding effortlessly through the crowds. A white Stetson hat covered the freshly trimmed hair now just barely visible below the brim, dark aviator-style sunglasses hid the eyes, a short-sleeved gray-green shirt had a name tag on the right and badge on the left, dark green sharply creased trousers led down the long legs to polished boots. The wide belt of tooled black leather around Finn's waist held several pouches; Ben's attention was caught, however, by the holster on the right hip. Although it was covered by a leather flap, there was clearly a large pistol contained within.

The man carries a gun, Ben thought. He had known Finn had something to do with law enforcement in the forest, but somehow he had never really made the connection, having had a vague notion that maybe it had something to do with finding litterers or people who caught too many fish. Jesus Christ, the man carries a real gun, he thought again.

"Good afternoon, Ben. Enjoying the Roundup?"

Ben looked up with a half grin, still a bit rattled by the implications of the gun. "I haven't had a chance to see much yet. I'm down at the Midway exhibit and this is my first break. It does seem to be quite large."

"We draw some pretty big crowds. They have very nice fireworks shows every night, but it’s particularly spectacular on Saturday and Sunday."

"I'll look forward to that." Ben's eyes strayed back up, a puzzled look on his face. "I thought rangers wore those Smokey the Bear hats?"

"We get that question a lot. I work for the Forest Service." Finn laughed as he turned his shoulder and tapped the patch on his left sleeve. "The Park Service people wear the flat brim hats. Take a trip to Yellowstone National Park and you'll see the Park Rangers wearing those."

"Oh. So that's the uniform you wear when you're on duty?"

"Sometimes. I've got a more rugged version I wear most of the time, but occasionally I wear military-style uniforms if we're out in the back country or on a special job. I wear this at public functions like the Roundup, since part of my job here today is to be visible and to explain some of the career opportunities there are in the Forest Service when I'm not helping with security."

Ben felt, rather than saw, the shift in Finn's focus. He couldn't read the eyes behind the sunglasses, but was not surprised when Finn reached down to his belt and drew out a small two-way radio.

"Excuse me," Finn said quietly to Ben before keying the device. "Miller... Finn here." He waited for the acknowledgement before continuing crisply. "I'm by the Wildlife exhibit; their next presentation is about to start. Have a suspect, male, five ten, 190 pounds, about 50, thinning black hair, white shirt over grey jeans. I've been watching him for thirty minutes and he's been tagging the same kid. If he's that child molester in the bulletin, then he's still on probation and there's a restraining order on him."

Ben eagerly looked out over the large group assembling near them, trying to find the 'suspect'.

"Roger. I'll keep an eye on him until you get here. Out." Finn tapped Ben on the shoulder. "I've got to get to work."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I can't afford to be worrying about you if something goes wrong." Finn held up a hand as Ben started to protest. "No. Do not follow me. Understood?"

Ben bit his tongue, but dutifully answered, "Yes, sir."

Finn disappeared into the crowd; if Ben hadn't been watching he would have lost him. Ben faded over behind a display to stay out of the way and tried to keep an eye on his ranger.

Nothing seemed to happen for the next twenty minutes. Ben glanced at his watch to ensure he wasn't overstaying his break, then looked back up at the excited 'oohs' and 'aahs' coming from the Wildlife show. The audience was intently focused as a large bald eagle was brought out from the back, but Ben tensed as he saw what must surely be the person Finn had been following.

The older man, pale face turning red in the sunlight, was sidling slowly toward a young boy on the far edge of the crowd. Ben couldn't see any parents in the vicinity of the child, who looked about eleven or twelve, thin with light brown hair, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. Ben started to move, but remembered his instructions and stayed put.

The child was pointing and gesturing as the man edged closer until he was standing directly behind the boy. A hand stealthily reached forward, resting on a small shoulder.

Suddenly a tall ranger materialized at the man's side; there was a brief struggle, a flash of metal, then Finn was steering the man away with his hands cuffed behind his back. A state trooper gathered in the boy and brought him along.

Ben blinked. The scuffle had been over in seconds and the crowd remained seemingly oblivious. He shook his head.

"I saw you talking to Finn. He is rather remarkable, isn't he?" The voice seemed familiar; Ben turned to find the woman who had addressed him earlier.

"Yes, it would certainly seem so," Ben said. "Do you know Ranger Finn?"

"Not personally," she said wistfully. "We all know him in a general sort of way and he's always nice to everybody, a perfect gentleman, but he's pretty particular about having any close friends."

"He certainly seems to be good at his job," Ben ventured.

"Oh yes, he's a real professional, one of the best. He usually ends up with some of the most difficult assignments." She looked at Ben speculatively. "How do you know him?"

"I met him at UPA out at the university," said Ben vaguely. He wanted to pump the woman for more information, but a glance at his watch told him he needed to leave. "Is the exhibit open all day?"

"We usually have somebody here until around ten; that late most people are either still at the rodeo, the music stages or the rides."

"Thanks. I've got to get back to work, but maybe I'll stop by later." Ben tossed his water bottle in a recycling bin and began walking back toward the Midway booth.

A little before eight Frank Mendoza arrived to spell Ben.

"Look around if you like, but don't stay too late," Frank said. "I'm counting on you to open the shop in the morning. I'll be here most of the day tomorrow. It should be pretty quiet, and you'll have Jake with you, but if you run into anything you can't handle, call me on my cell phone."

"Yes, sir. I'll take care of things." Ben felt a little thrill of pride as he snagged another bottle of water and retrieved two apples he had brought with him from home; it was heartening to get such visible evidence of Frank's trust. As he wandered through the grounds in the direction of the Forest Service exhibit, he thought about how much more overtime he was getting this week than he had expected.

He stepped out of the main path and pulled out his wallet. The tone of Mattie's earlier tease floated back into his head and he wondered if he was starting to get a little too obviously obsessive about money. Then he remembered with a guilty start how long it had been since he had done something so simple as buying Jane a bottle of her favorite root beer like he used to do when he had even less coming in. He pulled a face as he speculated on what Finn would probably have to say about that and decided he could afford a hot dog. He stopped at one of the youth group booths and got a grilled footlong, munching slowly as he continued his walk.

Ben's hopes were rewarded; as he approached the exhibit, he saw Finn and Dr. Spangler standing in the Wildlife exhibit looking into one of the cages. He went in and stood off to the side, finishing his treat.

Joan looked up first. "Ben, it's good to see you again. How do you like the Roundup?"

"I'm afraid I haven't had a chance to explore most of it yet, ma'am. I work for Midway Motorcycles and have been manning their exhibit. I just got off for tonight, but I'll be back out here Saturday and Sunday. I did stop by earlier on a break but I didn't have much time, so I'm sorry I missed a lot of your Fur and Feathers show."

"Well, maybe you'll get a chance later on. If you'll excuse me, I need to make sure all the animals are getting bedded down for the night. See you around."

Finn and Ben nodded and bade her good night. They moved over to sit down on one of the benches.

Ben pulled the apples from his pockets and offered one to Finn.

"Thanks, I've not had much of a chance to eat since breakfast." Finn smiled before taking a bite.

Rolling his apple in his hands, Ben hesitantly asked a question. "Is it alright to ask about what happened when I was here earlier today?"

"Of course, what do you want to know?"

"Well, when I saw you in uniform today I realized that I didn't really understand what you do. I know you said you were in security or law enforcement, but I thought you were a forest ranger enforcing game laws or something like that. Then I saw the gun and I was wondering if you're really some sort of policeman?" Ben nibbled at the fruit.

"We refer to a lot of our field people as rangers, but my official job title is actually Law Enforcement Officer. I started as a Forestry Technician, then went back to school at nights to get a degree in Justice and shifted over. I have full arrest and investigative powers within the Keo or if I'm deputized by state or local authorities within their jurisdictions, if that is the part you are asking about. For a big event like this they bring in all the people they can for security, although we also need to maintain coverage in the Keo during the holiday; that's why I have to work the whole four days either here or in the forest."

"So you were bagging that guy?"

"If you mean arresting him, yes, in conjunction with the state trooper. Turned out he was a convicted child molester and was violating his parole. We took him down to the holding area to do the paperwork; the local police will have transferred him to jail by now." Finn took another bite of his apple.

"Have you ever had to... use your gun?" Ben had found that idea troubling; it didn't seem to square with what he thought he knew about Finn's personality.

Finn looked at Ben thoughtfully as he finished chewing, then swallowed. "Weapons are tools of the job, but I don't particularly like using them. That's one of the main reasons I learned martial arts, so I wouldn't need to." He paused, then continued softly. "I have been very fortunate in that I have never had to kill anyone. I've drawn a pistol or rifle several times, fired at people a few times and wounded them, but usually I've been able to resolve most problems without firearms." Finn looked over at the rows of cages. "The most difficult thing I have ever had to do was to put down animals that were too badly injured to survive. It would have been cruel to let them linger in pain, but it wasn't something I enjoyed."

"I'm sorry. I know that must have been hard."

There was silence for a few minutes as both men finished their apples. People strolled by, but nobody stopped. Competing music from the stage shows and the carnival rides drifted in the warm air, punctuated by the occasional scream from the direction of the midway.

"You look like you have something on your mind, Ben." Finn slowly licked apple juice from his fingers.

Ben cursed as his hormones kicked in again unexpectedly. He had to look away for a moment and concentrate hard on cold showers; the thoughts of what it might be like to be the one licking those long fingers were clearly not suitable for public exposure. He took a sip of water, then cleared his throat.

"Sort of. I've been thinking how little I know about the forest, what you do, what sort of things happen there, and I was wondering... well, I know I don't have a lot of extra time, but I was wondering if there was something useful that I could do."

"Are you sure?" Finn tilted his head. "You haven't seemed terribly interested in the Keo up to now."

"Yes, sir, that's true." Ben looked down, digging around the gravel with the toe of one boot. "You once said you wanted to meet Myrna because you wanted to understand me better." He looked up, meeting Finn's gaze squarely. "I'd like to understand more about you, and it seems to me that learning more about the Keo would help."

Finn looked at Ben for a long moment before nodding. "Alright. A time-intensive position is obviously out, but there are quite a few part-time work or emergency response volunteer spots, such as search or flood teams." Finn rose to his feet. "Come over here."

They stepped next door to the Forest Service booth where one person in gray-green was still manning the tables. "Juan, have you got more of those brochures about the different volunteer jobs?" Finn took the proffered booklets and gave them to Ben. "Here, take a look through these. For the emergency response positions you should probably be checking with your employer since that sometimes involves short notice call-ups. If you find something you think you like, let me know and I can take you in to meet the Volunteer Coordinator next week."

"Thanks. I'll have something figured out by our session Wednesday morning."

"Sounds good. If I don't see you again here at the Roundup, we can talk then. Right now I need to be making another round, so I'll say good night."

"Yes, sir. I'll see you later."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Thirteen §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ben sauntered into the kitchen. A tantalizing smell from the oven drew an appreciative "Mmmm."

"Cinnamon bread will be ready in a few minutes," said Jane as she set the table. "Tammy's already left for work."

"I'll get some milk and orange juice," offered Ben.

Rafa smiled shyly as she stirred oatmeal at the stove. She had arrived the day before; her personal possessions had been few, a small suitcase of clothes, a new laptop computer, a few dog-eared books. It had taken longer to unpack the gear for her horse than for herself. The Subaru had disgorged a saddle, blankets, halters, bridles, brushes and buckets, all of which had gone to the second-from-the-end stall now set aside for Celesta's straw, feed and tack.

Once the food was set out, they had a pleasant breakfast. Both Jane and Ben tried to make Rafa feel comfortable without being pushy. After the meal was finished, Ben cleared his throat.

"I have something for you, ma'am." Trying to be nonchalant, Ben pulled out his brand new checkbook and wrote out his first check. "A full month's rent and a little on the backlog, too."

"Well, would you look at that, check number 101. I was beginning to wonder if either you hadn't heard of that modern institution called a bank or you were just doing something shady off the books." Her tone was dry, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

A look of alarm crossed Rafa's face.

"That was a joke, dear," said Jane as she reached over to pat Rafa's hand reassuringly. "Ben was rather strapped for cash when he charmed his way into our little household back in March."

"That's an understatement." Ben rolled his eyes.

"But he has a real job now, and I get my money's worth of work around here." Jane stood up and patted Ben's shoulder. "Speaking of which, I've got to run over to the church and help organize the doings for Sunday, so why don't you make yourself useful and wash some dishes."

"Yes, ma'am, my pleasure." Ben drained the last of his juice and began clearing the table.

Jane put the check away in her accounts book, then paused in the doorway. "You going to be here Sunday?"

"Definitely, I'm not about to miss a free meal." Ben grinned. "I'm going over to Mr. Finn's place for a Tai Chi session this morning, so I'll ask him if I can change the time of the lesson for Sunday."

"Why don't you invite him along? Living all alone out there like that he might like some company for a change or a chance for some home cooking. He's big on helping animals, so make sure you tell him it's for the horse."

Ben raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. "Maybe I'll just do that."

An hour later Ben sat on Myrna for a long moment, helmet in hand, as he thought about Jane's parting words. He rubbed his free hand against his jeans, looked at Finn's house, then looked back down at Myrna.

"Well, dammit, what the hell are you so nervous about?" he muttered to himself. "It's not like you're asking the man out for a date." He snorted to help ease his tension. "And it's hardly likely you're going to be luring him off behind the compost heaps to ravish him. He'd probably bend you into a pretzel and stick you head first into the muck, then that would surely be the last you’d see of him." He looked back up, then reached down to pat Myrna. "Maybe I should just stick to talking about the forest work." He sighed. "Better be getting on with things."

He finally dismounted and headed for the usual rendezvous around the side of the small house, reminding himself to focus.

The two men began the now-familiar routine, starting with stretches and breathing, then working through various stances: Horse, Bow and Arrow, Empty, Drop, and Single Leg.

"Very good, Sidai. Now, run through each of them again. I will tell you when to change to the next."

"Yes, Sifu."

"Good. Again. Concentrate on form and feeling it from the center of your body."

By the seventh non-stop repetition, Ben was feeling the strain. The work hadn't been particularly arduous physically, but holding each position precisely for an extended time was more difficult than the individual exercises he had been practicing.

"Stop. Hold the position."

Ben had just moved into the Bow stance, his front knee bent with most of his weight on it and his back foot at a 45 degree angle. He stayed still, looking forward, while Finn slowly circled around him. His shoulder twitched as he lost sight of his teacher and he was sure he was starting to develop a cramp in his front calf muscle. He fought the temptation to turn his head as Finn seemed to be taking his own sweet time behind him.

A hand suddenly descended on each of Ben's shoulders. Only the pressure pushing down kept Ben from jumping.

"You're tight as a drum, Sidai," came a low-voiced growl in Ben's right ear. "On every move you must be relaxed, centered in stillness."

"Yes, Sifu," Ben blew out a breath to keep from thinking of the warm body that practically pressed against his back, one leg touching his back knee.

"Stand up straight. We will work on the opening stance."

Straightening gratefully, Ben moved his feet shoulder-width apart and let his arms hang loosely at his sides. A thump on the back of his head reminded him to belatedly pull his chin in a bit.

"Remember, knees unlocked and keep your lower back relaxed and tucked under." Finn dug his thumbs into the small of his student's back, his fingers resting lightly on his sides. "Head up as if you are suspended from above. Breathe with your lower belly."

There was something a little lower than his belly button demanding Ben's attention as two large hands wrapped themselves around his waist, then pushed down and held a light pressure longer than usual. The breath from Finn's words in his ear made him glad he had worn his loosest jeans. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and forced himself to focus, a task made much easier when he felt Finn step away.

"Better. Close your eyes, stay relaxed and just work on breathing."

For several minutes Ben ignored everything about him, trying to stay centered, feeling his breath flowing into his nose and down to his belly, then letting it slowly release.

"Good. That's enough for today."

Ben took one last breath, opened his eyes, saw Finn standing in front of him. Ben bowed.

"Thank you, Sifu."

Finn bowed in turn.

"You are welcome, Sidai."

They moved to the table and sat down; Finn passed out his ubiquitous bottles, today with just plain water, as they relaxed for a few moments.

"Your stances are definitely improving, but you need to remember to stay relaxed. The purpose of repetition is to develop muscle memory, which will be very important as you begin actually working through the form."

"Could I ask when we will actually move on to something different?"

"Getting impatient, are we?" Finn smiled. "Or just bored?"

"Well..." Ben cocked his head as he looked down. "Maybe a little of both, I suppose."

"It's a slow process, but you can vary the routine. You’re making good progress, so I think we might be able to start you on the initial sequence of the square form in the next week or two."

"That would be nice," said Ben. "I'll keep working on the conditioning, too. I'm starting to see some results from that, which is good." He grinned. "One of these days you won't find it quite so easy to run off and leave me in the dust."

"We'll be seeing about that, boyo," Finn said with a small grin of his own. "Meanwhile, I believe we’ve a few things to discuss today?"

"I looked at those brochures, and I did a little more research on the Keo web site," Ben replied. "I would like to sign up for the emergency response volunteers."

"You understand that can be some pretty hard work on very short notice?"

"Yes, sir. I've already talked to my boss, and he's agreed to the idea if there is a call during business hours. The brochure said you didn't have to come out every single time if you just can't make it, but I want to give it a try."

"We can always use more help, that's for certain. Alright, if that's what you really want to do, you can follow me to headquarters when we're finished and I'll take you in to meet the coordinator."

"Thanks. What else did you want to talk about?"

Finn leaned back and looked thoughtfully across the table. "I've been remiss in my poking," he said softly. "It's been a while since we discussed the issues that brought you here in the first place."

"Oh. I suppose so." Ben carefully studied a whorl in a plank of the wooden table, tracing the pattern with one fingertip. He hadn't been expecting this topic and detested the blush he could feel starting to creep up the back of his neck.

"Well? Did you try any of the exercises? Did you decide where to start with coming to terms with your past?"

"Umm.... " Ben licked his lower lip as he stared down. "I did try the bit about looking at myself in the mirror."

Finn lifted his head a bit and waited expectantly as the silence grew.

"It's just... I felt so stupid," Ben blurted out. "There was only me staring back. I couldn't figure out what I was supposed to be seeing."

"It is a very subjective thing to do," said Finn. "For some people, they can see into themselves, and they can start to envision themselves as the kind of person they want to try to be. For others, it just doesn’t connect." He shrugged. "Did you try anything else?"

Slowly Ben rubbed his left forearm with the palm of his right hand. He took a long breath through slightly parted lips. "Not really." He sighed. "Especially after that vandalism at the university... it reminded me how hateful people can be." He finally glanced up. "I think I must have an awful lot buried inside. It hurts a lot when I try to think about it."

"Aye, it's not easy." Finn stood up and walked around the table. He put his left hand on Ben's right shoulder and gently squeezed. "You're the only one who can decide what will work for you, Ben, and you're the only one who can decide where you want to go with your life. If the pain is holding you back from who or what you’re wanting to be, then you'll need to deal with it eventually. You may even want to be thinking about getting professional help."

"I know it's a problem." Ben sighed. "I'll keep working on it myself for a while, but I'll think about what you said if I get to a point where I can't handle it."

"Good boy." Finn slapped Ben on the shoulder. "I'll throw on a uniform and we can leave. When we get together on Sunday, we'll go for a nice long run to loosen up." He started walking toward the house.

"Sunday?" Ben muttered to himself. "Shit, I forgot about Sunday!" He stood up. "Wait a minute. I need to talk to you about that."

"About what?" Finn turned around and looked back.

"The schedule for Sunday." Ben launched into the tale of Jane's new boarder, the fire that had destroyed her home and family, and the church group's determination to build a corral for Rafa's horse. "The upshot is that Celesta is all the poor girl really has left. I've been promised they won't be doing any religious proselytizing, and they're going to have a pot luck barbecue. Jane thought you might like to come along; it's a good cause, and you don't have to bring anything if you want to help with the building part." He paused for breath, smiled tentatively. "So do you want to come?" He smiled a little more winningly. "They're good people, and it's a free home-cooked meal."

"Jane Brandon invited me?" Finn raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir, she did." Ben hesitated. "I sort of already promised I'd help, so I need to ask you if we can reschedule anyway."

"Do you want me to come?"

Ben couldn't read the neutral expression on Finn's face but decided to take a chance. "Yes, sir."

Finn cocked his head and looked steadily at Ben for a long moment. "Alright, I guess I could do that. What time?"

"They were planning on starting around ten."

"Ten it is, then." Finn turned and began to walk away. He turned his head, "I'll just be a minute. See you out front."

"Yes, sir."

**************** ***************

Ben moved Myrna to the side of the drive, then put on his jacket and helmet. It was only a few minutes before Finn came out dressed in a light green-gray uniform shirt, green pants over hiking boots and baseball style cap with a Forest Service patch. He carried his equipment belt in one hand, tossing it into the cab of the truck before climbing in and starting it.

The truck roared to life as Ben listened critically for a moment, nodding to himself before turning the key for Myrna. He followed Finn for twenty minutes until they pulled into a large asphalt parking lot in front of a dark green two-story building. A large sign welcomed them to the Keogami Forest district headquarters. Ben pulled into a slot next to the truck and parked.

Finn was buckling the wide belt as Ben joined him, settling the heavy weight on his hips. He shoved the cap backwards on his head with a grin, then clapped Ben on the shoulder.

"Come on. I'll take you in to meet Kim. Just don't let her talk you into more work than you'll have time for."

"Yes, sir." Ben smiled back, a little warm buzz tingling along his spine.

They went inside through a set of double doors. To the left was a broad staircase; next to that was a set of offices with restrooms in the far corner. To the right was a hallway and another set of offices and several cubicles lined the center back wall. Immediately in front of them was a long counter with two people manning visitor information stations. Smiles lit their faces when they saw Finn and he stopped to exchange a few pleasantries.

Finn led his companion to an office on the right side. A metal plaque above the open door read Kimberly Vanden, Volunteer Coordinator.

"Good morning, Kim. If you've got a minute, I brought someone to see you." Finn motioned Ben into the office.

"Always for you, Qui." A pleasant middle-aged woman in a red and white checked shirt and jeans stood up. A gleam lit her eyes as she looked at Ben.

"Hey, down, woman," Finn laughed as he leaned against the door frame. "You look like a shark that just scented fresh meat."

Ben stood uncertainly for a moment as the woman advanced toward him and grabbed his hand in a firm handshake.

"Don't pay any attention to him," Kim said, throwing a mock scowl at Finn before turning a dazzling smile back on Ben. "You're here to sign up, I hope?"

Ben smiled back. "Yes, ma'am. I want to work with the emergency response group, please."

"Oh, Lordy." She perched on the edge of her desk in a fake swoon, hand on heart. "Qui, I don't where you found this one, but you simply must bring me another dozen just like him. Good heavens above, an actual gentleman." She sneaked in a quick ogle and sighed.

Ben flushed and shifted his feet.

"Now, now, this one's a friend of mine, so don't you be scaring him off." Finn waggled a finger in a mock warning which was spoiled by the smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

"Well, that's different, you should have said so in the first place." She patted Ben on the shoulder. "So what is your name, since your friend has all the manners of a bear in the woods?"

"Ben Kennan, ma'am."

"Kim, please." She sat back down at her desk and leaned back. "You're interested in the Emergency Response Team?"

"Yes, please. I read the brochures and your web site, and it sounds like something I could do. I work full-time, so that limits my time quite a bit as far as some of the other volunteer positions, but I've already talked to my boss and he is willing to let me try this."

"Good, at least you've done some homework. A lot of the work can be pretty demanding physically, especially things like filling sandbags if there is a flood, and it can mean being out in nasty weather for extended periods."

"I understand, and I don't have a problem with any of that."

"There is also a training requirement," Kim said. "A minimum of eight hours. We do a full session once a month, or you can do it in two shorter sessions. We give those every other week at various times. In a few months there will also be a session on winter weather survival you will need to attend."

Ben was about to answer when another ranger stepped in the door.

"What are you doing here, Finn?" he demanded.

"The last time I checked, I do still work here," Finn said mildly as he leaned against the doorframe again. "I was thinking it might be a good idea to turn in a timesheet so I can get paid."

"You need to make yourself scarce, man. Mack is looking for you and he is definitely not a happy camper."

"Well, that does seem to be a somewhat chronic state with him, doesn't it." Finn smiled, apparently unconcerned with the dire warning.

At that moment a low roar interrupted them.

"Quilan Finn!"

"Yes, sir?" Finn straightened and turned toward the source of the disturbance.

"Get your sorry, worthless ass in my office NOW!"

Ben took a step closer to the doorway to watch as Finn followed a black man across the central open area. The man was almost as tall as Finn but with broader shoulders that filled the sharply creased uniform shirt; his bald head reflected the overhead lights.

The two men disappeared into an office. The door slammed shut, revealing a wooden sign indicating the occupant was Mack Windham, District Ranger.

Ben retreated back into Kim’s office. "Was that the ranger supervisor here?" asked Ben.

"Mack is THE District Ranger, head of the district, so yes, that sort of makes him in charge of everybody," Kim replied. "Although the law enforcement people actually have their own separate group and chain of command, Mack is the most visible person in our district so he tends to get the heat or the praise for things."

An unfortunate soul chose that moment to open the door to Mack's office, a stack of papers in his hand. An angry growl could be clearly heard.

"I cannot believe you gave a ticket to a SENATOR. What in the hell could you possibly have been thinking?"

"They were breaking the law, sir," was the calm response.

"That was not just a SEN A TOR, that was a SEN A TOR on the fucking appropriations committee!"

"I did give them a warning first, sir."

"Do you have any idea how long my ass got reamed out this morning by D.C. over a miserable two hundred dollar ticket? Not just my boss, or his boss, but fucking department headquarters in Washington, D.C.!"

"I'm sorry, sir, but the Senator chose to ignore the warning and made it quite clear they had no intention of complying with the inconvenience of the safety requirements."

"Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, you and your damned principles are going to get me fired one of these days –" The deluge changed direction. "What the hell do YOU want!"

The luckless clerk came flying back out of the office with papers clutched to his chest, the door slamming again behind him. He scuttled up the stairs, visibly shaking.

"Is Ranger Finn in a lot of trouble?" asked Ben as he sat down in the wooden chair next to Kim’s desk.

"Don't worry about it. Normally Mack is fine, but Qui just rubs him the wrong way. They have one of those love-hate relationships. Mack loves it when Qui does something good like busting a drug runner or rescuing lost kids 'cause it makes the district look good. He hates it when Qui does things that Qui believes are in the best interest of the forest, regardless of who he pisses off," Kim said. She grinned as she dropped her voice into a fake growl, "Like giving a ticket to a SEN A TOR!"

Ben smiled but couldn't help looking uneasily back out the door.

"Hey, Qui's a big boy and that stuff just rolls off him like water off a duck," Kim said. "Let's get you finished." She dug a box out of her desk. "Here, have some cookies."

For the next fifteen minutes Ben nibbled on chocolate chip cookies as Kim took down information, filled out papers, presented consent and liability release statements for signature, and registered him for training sessions. When Finn came back in, they were standing next to the wall going over a large map of the forest as Kim pointed out some of the places they typically used as assembly areas for different types of contingencies.

"Turn around, Ranger Finn," Kim demanded.

Finn looked at her quizzically, but complied.

"Okay, just wanted to see if you had any ass left."

"There's still plenty to go around," Finn replied with a laugh. He snagged a couple of cookies. "How are we doing here?"

"Just about done." She returned to her desk to retrieve several papers, a booklet and a folded map. "These are your copies, Ben. Don't forget the training; we can't use you on any calls until the entire set is finished. If you need another map or you want to ask about anything, call me. Do you have any questions at the moment?"

"No, I think you covered things pretty thoroughly. I'm looking forward to this. Thanks for your help."

Kim came around the desk to shake Ben's hand. "Thank you for signing up. I hope you enjoy it."

"Appreciate you taking care of this, Kim. I'll see you around," said Finn. "Come on, Ben, I'll walk you out."

Kim waved as they headed back out to the parking lot.

Ben hesitated, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Are you really in trouble for giving a ticket to a senator?"

"You heard that part, huh?" Finn shook his head. "No, it was a legitimate ticket. It was a senator from back east trying to play big shot with some constituents and being an arsehole. I actually gave them two warnings, but he wanted to push it." He grinned. "I guess I don't respond well to being pushed in the wrong direction."

"That Windham was yelling at you a lot, though," persisted Ben. "Can he give you a bad performance rating or get you fired or anything like that?"

"You obviously don't know how the federal government works, Ben," said Finn with a laugh. "It takes a lot to fire a civil servant, and anyway my actual supervisor is the patrol commander, who works for the regional special-agent-in-charge. My boss is usually incredibly busy and understands that Mack is the one who generally gets the calls from the press or D.C., and neither of us minds if Mack wants to vent on me," his grin got wider, "especially if it saves my boss the trouble of having to yell at me."

"Oh." Ben rolled his lower lip between his teeth before continuing. "Does this sort of thing happen a lot?"

"Look, Ben, don't worry about it. We don't always see eye to eye on things, but Mack is alright. He's a bit of a bureaucrat and blows pretty hard sometimes, but he does some good work and truly cares about the forest." He shook his head. "His idea of revenge is to keep nagging me to apply for promotions so I'll have to spend more time behind a desk, but that will never happen."

"You don't want a promotion?" Ben blinked at this odd notion.

"Of course not. The money's not nearly worth having to give up being out in the Keo." He shrugged. "I'm more than happy to let people like Mack and my boss handle the paperwork and meetings and such." He poked Ben in the side. "There really are more important things in life than money, boyo."

"I'll take your word for it."

They reached the edge of the lot; Finn lounged against his truck as Ben put his papers away and shrugged into his jacket.

"You know, obviously I think this is a good thing you want to do, Ben, but if it doesn't work out, I don't want you to keep doing this just for my sake," Finn said.

"Hey, I haven't even been to my first class yet," Ben replied. "Why don't we wait and see how it goes?"

"Of course. I just want to make sure you know that I understand that most people don't feel the way I do about the Keo."

"I do." Ben gave a cheeky grin. "Of course, I haven't told you about my secret plans to get you aboard Myrna one of these days, Mr. Tree Hugger, and to teach you the difference between a carburetor and an alternator."

"Talk about hopeless causes," Finn laughed, shaking his head. "I'm lucky to be able to figure out where to put the gas in."

"Sounds like I've got a long-term project to work on." Ben pulled his helmet on. "See you Sunday." He started Myrna, then waved as he drove out.

It wasn't until he was halfway home that Ben realized that Finn had introduced him to Kim as his friend. He wondered if that was just being polite or if the man had actually meant it. That question stuck with him the rest of the day, but he never was able to answer it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Fourteen §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ben sipped his orange juice slowly, the Sunday comics spread on the table before him. He had been out for a short run and completed his garden chores earlier, had showered and changed, and was enjoying a leisurely light breakfast. The familiar aroma of recent fresh baking filled the air, mingling with the whisps of odors from the back yard generated by the solemn old man who had shown up at dawn to start several large chunks of meat to slow cooking in a 55 gallon drum smoker. He looked across the table at Rafa, who was toying with a small bowl of cereal, and smiled reassuringly. Tammy was out of town for the weekend, but had contributed packages of burgers and buns for the gathering.

A knock at the front door signaled the start of a stream of visitors. Some brought folding tables and chairs, three minivans discharged crews of workers, various pickups yielded bags of charcoal, coolers of food and drinks, portable grillers, and more workers and family members. Two stake trucks pulled up beyond the barn, loaded with lumber, tools and supplies.

In Ben's bemused eyes there seemed to be quite a large horde of people of all sorts, young and old, wandering about aimlessly. He stood in the door of the barn trying to figure out what he should be doing until Jane came up with a young brown-skinned man.

"Ben, this is Boris Mercado, our assistant pastor. Reverend Jenkins had another commitment so Boris is filling in to help keep things organized. Boris, this is Ben Kennan, one of my boarders."

The two men shook hands.

"Ben, you could help with the team working on the corral, if you don't mind. Boris, if you could keep track of the children, I'll work with the people doing the food prep and setup. Inside the barn there is a restroom and there's the guest powder room just past the kitchen."

"I remember the powder room from my last visit. I'll make sure none of the youngsters run amok in the house." He grinned. "I've got plenty of games in mind to help them burn off some energy."

"Thanks. I'm sure everyone will appreciate that. Ben, Tugger Gordon is heading up the work project. He's a foreman with one of the local construction companies: short man, brown shirt and blue jeans, red suspenders."

"I'll find him. Nice to have met you, Boris. Good luck with the children," Ben said as he turned to leave. He walked through the barn, past the restroom and office, three levels of small and medium cages on the left and larger cages and pens on the right, two stalls on each side at the end of the barn and overhead lofts along both walls. He slid apart the far double doors and went out.

The sun was bright and it took Ben's eyes a moment to adjust after the cool darkness of the barn. It was easy to find the man in charge; he was rapidly sorting people into smaller work crews several feet away. Ben went over to offer his services and was put on one of the teams digging the holes for posts.

A familiar voice caught Ben's attention and he turned to see Quilan Finn introducing himself. He was wearing jeans, a denim work shirt and his hiking boots. A large leather satchel hung from one hand, two handsaws with wooden blade guards strapped to the outside.

"Finn, huh?" Gordon looked the ranger up and down, nodded. "Good, I can always use somebody with his own tools. See Jordy over there; he's got the plan and measurements."

Ben was both disappointed and relieved that Finn would be on a different crew. It was always nice to have a chance to be close to the man he loved, but he had also been a little apprehensive about the fact that this was the first time Finn would be coming onto his home turf, so to speak. He didn't have time to think about it, however, as the foreman called everybody together for instructions.

"Listen up, people. First off, thanks for coming out. Our job today is to build a corral using wood posts and boards. We will build out incorporating this end of the barn, starting from the left corner," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, "with the left side parallel to the dirt road, across the end, then back down parallel to the garden fence, leaving a ten foot clearance to the garden. The right side will dogleg down to within six feet of the dog runs and we'll close it off there. We'll be putting a roof over the dogleg bit, covering the area where the horse will come out, installing a couple of gates, and rehanging the internal and external doors to the end stall. The crew leaders know what needs to be done, so if you have any questions, just ask. Okay, let's hit it and get it."

The work went quickly over the next few hours. Tugger was everywhere, making sure lines stayed straight, post holes were the proper depth, and everybody got a chance to contribute without feeling overworked. Ben plugged away with his teammates, digging holes, pouring quickset concrete, helping place posts, and moving on to do it all again. Occasionally Ben would sneak a peek at the group of skilled workers where Finn seemed to have fit right in, turning the motley loads of donated lumber into correctly sized and smoothed planks.

"Time for a longer break, folks. It's getting hot out here, so everybody make sure you're drinking plenty of water."

Ben picked up two bottles of water from the coolers that had been set out on the tailgate of a pickup, then headed for the shade of the trees where he had seen Finn sitting with his satchel.

"Hey, glad you could make it," said Ben as he handed over one of the bottles.

"Thanks," Finn replied. "I'm glad I came. It's good to be getting out and doing some physical work." He finished cleaning a saw blade and applied a light coat of oil before putting the guard on. "You were right about the people. It's a good turnout and they seem to be genuinely happy about helping."

Before Ben could reply, Tugger Gordon came over.

"Quilan Finn, wasn't it?"

"Aye."

"Been watching you. You're damned good with the hand tools, nice clean work."

"Thanks. Power tools are nice, and I use them when I need to, but it's just not the same feel as doing it yourself." Finn nodded toward a group sprawled under another tree. "You've got some good people on your crew; it's been a pleasure working with them."

"Yeah, my boys and girls have been with me quite a while." Tugger glanced down. "That's kind of an unusual design. Mind if I take a look?"

"Help yourself."

Tugger checked out a hand plane and manual drill, then picked up a hammer and swung it several times, nodding appreciatively. "Beautiful balance. You could swing this all day without any trouble. Don't recognize this handle style, though."

"Had to make a new one a few years back when the old one finally gave out," Finn said. He took a sip of water. "My da was in the trades. We didn't have much, but he always insisted that good tools were worth the money and would stand you better in the long run." He nodded toward the satchel. "That's part of the set that was one of the few things I took when I left Ireland."

"He was right. Good solid tools are your friends for life." Tugger swung the hammer again before carefully placing it back. "You ever need a job, you come see me."

"Appreciate the offer." Finn smiled. "I think I'm good where I'm at for quite a while, though."

Tugger nodded, then turned away. "Ten more minutes, everybody, then back to work," he called out.

Ben wanted to ask questions about this interesting new tidbit of information, but Finn stood and stretched before he could start his queries.

"I think I'd better use the restroom before we start again," said Finn. He finished his water. "See you for lunch?"

"Definitely."

The work crews reassembled, the enticing smells drifting from the back yard making them eager to get on with the job. All of the posts had been set and the gates hung during the morning, so much of the work consisted of lining up the planks and nailing them in. Finn had disappeared around the corner of the barn with the group putting up the roof over the side section, so Ben was surprised when a voice growled in his ear less than a half hour later.

"You waste too much energy, boy. Relax, center yourself, and work with the wood."

"I need to make sure I hit it straight." Ben stopped, hammer dangling from one hand.

"Focus on the point where the head meets the nail; let the energy flow and do the work." Finn grabbed his arm. "Here, face this way, shift your weight, and swing like this." Finn moved him slowly through the motions. "There, feel that?"

"I think so." Ben grinned. "Am I supposed to breathe from my stomach too, o learned one?"

"Of course." Finn stepped back. "Now stop being a smartass and let me see your swing."

With a grin still on his face, Ben took a moment to focus and get his breathing going, then hammered in three nails under Finn's critical eye.

"Relax your shoulder. You want a nice, efficient, easy swing."

Ben tried it again.

"Alright, I suppose that will have to do for today," was Finn's grudging approval. "Remember, focus and relax."

"Yes, sir."

The rest of the work went smoothly and in a little over another hour everyone assembled in the middle of the finished structure. Jane and Boris had shepherded most of the rest of the group in, except for a few people manning the grills. Ben looked around; there must have been well over eighty people, men, women and children of all shapes and sizes. Rafa was standing between Boris and Jane; she was looking rather overwhelmed and Jane had put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"If I could have your attention!" Tugger cleared his throat. "The corral is finished, and I'd like to thank everyone who helped. It's a first-rate solid piece of work for a good cause that you can all be proud of."

There was a general round of applause and cheers.

"If I could say a few words also," said Boris. "On behalf of Miss Rafa, I too would like to thank everyone who came out to work and all those who have contributed materials, time and food. I know many of you are not formally members of our church, but it is a very good thing you have done today to help a new member of our community feel welcome after her recent loss of family and home."

More applause as Rafa snuggled closer into Jane's embrace and tried to smile.

"A brief moment of silence, please." Boris waited a few seconds as the group quieted. He bowed his head. "May the good Lord bless this home and bestow his blessings upon all who have gathered this day to enjoy your bounty. We thank you. Amen."

A round of solemn amens was murmured.

"Now that the work is done, let's eat!" Tugger roared.

That brought an even bigger cheer as people began streaming through the barn to the back yard. A veritable feast awaited the crowd: burgers, sausage and chicken fresh off the grill, corn on the cob, baked beans, Spanish rice, salads, enchiladas, fiesta casserole, veggie plates, melt-in-your-mouth brisket and pork, five kinds of chips, and a table chock-a-block with desserts.

A half hour later, Ben groaned as he leaned back on his elbows.

"God, I don't think I've eaten so much food in ages. And that home-made ice cream with jimmies was pisser."

"It was all so good I hardly knew where to start," Finn replied from his seat on the grass next to Ben. "Thanks for inviting me, Jane."

"Thank you for coming. The more hands to spread the work, the easier it goes for everybody." Jane was perched at the end of a picnic table with several older women who had adopted Rafa, clucking over her and trying to tempt her with tidbits.

"I'll think I'll have some more iced tea," said Finn as he rose gracefully to his feet. "Can I get those empty plates for you ladies?" Finn gathered used plates and other trash and carried everything to one of the big bags that had been set up. On his way back from refilling his plastic cup he was stopped by a little girl.

"Mister, my uncle says you're from Ireland. Is that for real?"

Finn looked down into the bright blue eyes. "It's been a long time, but yes, miss, I'm from Ireland."

The girl tugged on Finn's sleeve. "You got to come tell my friends 'cause they don't believe me." She tugged again. "Please?"

Finn looked over at Jane and Ben; Jane smiled and made a shooing gesture. "Sure." He took the child's hand and they headed toward a large group sitting in the shade under a large tree.

Ben rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand. The sun was warm, he was full of good food and good feelings. He looked sleepily around; Jane was chatting with her friends and had gotten Rafa to smile, there were assorted groups sitting under trees or at tables talking and nibbling, at one of the folding tables a lively card game was going, and outside the fence a group of teenagers were tossing Frisbees. He smiled as he saw Dexy and Delilah sprawled in a corner of the yard; they had had a busy day keeping order and now lay sleeping with three of the youngest children entangled with them in slumber. Just inside the shade of the barn, there was a small group of older teenagers with electronic game devices.

For quite a while Ben simply enjoyed himself by people-watching, but his attention inevitably shifted to watching one person in particular. The group around Finn had grown larger and the children had coaxed him into telling stories of Irish history. They were close enough that Ben could hear most of the tales of failed revolutions and fallen heroes; the soft brogue enchanted him as always and gradually filled him with a sweet sadness.

Eyes half-closed, the lilt and flow of the deceptively enticing words drew Ben's thoughts back to a different time, to a different man who used the power of language to fire the fevered imaginations of boys striving to be men. He realized that it had been quite some time since he had thought of Neal Delaney, but somehow it didn't seem to matter.

"A penny for your thoughts." Jane sat down on the grass beside Ben. "Your friend seems to be quite a weaver of words."

"He does indeed." Ben smiled briefly in remembrance, but his mien quickly turned a bit melancholy. "He reminds me of another man I once knew. He was an exchange instructor from Ireland when I was in high school; he had that touch of exotic mystery that had us all dreaming of brave adventures. Most of us even memorized bits of poetry that reminded us of him." He narrowed his eyes as he searched his memory, then gave a half-smile of triumph. "Here's one that could apply to Finn just as well. It's from a piece a called St. John's Eve by a minor Irish poet of the nineteenth century named Charles Kickham." Ben looked at Finn as he softly recited:

The wayside shepherd on the height  
Waits our approach, nor seems to heed  
His vagrant flock ihrong out of sight—  
Adown the winding road they speed.  
Deep learn'd was he in Gaelic lore,  
And loved to talk of days gone by;  
(A saddening theme, those days of yore!)  
And still he turned with sparkling eye  
From Druid rites and Christian fane,  
From champion bold and monarch grand,  
To tell of fray and foray when  
His sires were princes in the land.

"How romantic," sighed Jane. "I could picture him on a moonlit hillside, standing there in rough woolens, shepherd's crook in hand."

"Ah, it was just silly teenage stuff," Ben snorted as he looked sideways at Jane. "Pretty embarrassing, really, when I think back."

"Romance is never silly, but it can take different flavors when you get older." Jane smiled wistfully as if recalling memories of her own.

"Looks like the party is breaking up," said Ben. He watched as Finn shook his head gently, then stood up and came their way.

The sound of a horn beeping turned everyone's heads. A dusty pickup truck pulling a horse trailer stopped next to the barn and beeped once more. People began walking toward the newcomers as a man in black jeans and a short-sleeved black shirt got down from the passenger side, the sun glinting off silver hair.

As Ben got closer, he saw the clerical collar as a slender figure brushed past him and climbed over the fence.

"Father Joe!" called Rafa, a big smile on her face. "What are you doing here?"

"Just looking after a couple of my lost lambs, my child."

"But I have joined the church here, Father. I don't understand."

"I have one last obligation to your parents to fulfill."

Jane stepped up. "You must be Father Joseph." She held out her hand. "I'm Jane Brandon." She pointed to Boris. "And this is Boris Mercado, our assistant pastor."

"A pleasure to meet both of you, and to know that our Rafa is in such good hands."

"Goodness, where are my manners?" Rafa turned around. "Please, everybody, I would you like to meet Father Joseph, from my home town. He has been a good friend to my family for many years."

There were murmurs of welcome.

"Thank you," the priest said loudly, "Reverend Jenkins has told me how wonderfully you have been taking care of our Rafa, and I thank you very much for your kindness."

A loud thump from the horse trailer interrupted whatever the father's next words might have been. A young man in jeans and a white t-shirt stuck his head around the end of the trailer.

"Your lamb is very tired of being cooped up and wants out," he said dryly. "So can we dispense with the words and get on with it?"

"Jessie! You brought her!" Rafa ran to the side of the trailer and hoisted herself up. "Celesta, it's really you!"

The young man unlocked the back of the trailer and dropped the door down to form a ramp. Rafa went inside and within seconds a clatter of hooves marked the emergence of the back end of a horse.

There was a chorus of 'oohs' and 'how pretty' as a young Appaloosa mare came prancing out. She was jet black with a blaze of white down her face; a large ivory blanket across her hindquarters was flecked with spatters of black.

The light of love shone from Rafa's face as she led her friend over by the crowd, one hand on the rope attached to her halter. "This is Celesta." She lightly tapped the horse's front shoulder. "Say hello to everybody." Celesta gracefully extended one leg and bowed down, held the pose for a moment, then straightened and tossed her head.

There was delighted laughter from the children and smiles from the adults.

"She is probably tired from the trip," said Father Joseph. "Perhaps she might like to see her new home?"

"I suppose so." Celesta nudged Rafa as if in agreement. "Alright, we're going." She laughed as she led the way to the corral.

An hour later the last visitors were packing away the leftover food, tables, chairs and supplies. Rafa had made the rounds to thank everyone and then returned to the barn to fuss over Celesta.

"That was a great job, Tugger," said Jane. She shook his hand as they stood just outside the fence.

"We had a good bunch of folks that made it possible. Some damned good food, too." Tugger leaned in a bit. "You'll make sure to tell Zinny, right?"

"Of course I will. You tell her I said hello and hope she gets to feeling better."

"You bet. Take care." Tugger swung up into the last truck and drove off.

Jane, Ben and Finn walked back into the back yard and sat at the picnic table.

"What was all that about?" asked Ben.

"Well, Tugger is a good man but he won't normally come within a mile of a church. His wife is in our community support club, though, and when I told Zinny about Rafa she wanted to help, but she's laid up with a broken leg." Jane smiled. "Rumor has it that she threatened to withhold certain, shall we say, marital affections if Tugger wouldn't help."

Finn laughed. "Saints preserve us poor helpless menfolk from devious women."

Jane and Finn chatted easily for several minutes. Ben sat and watched, mostly silent as he nibbled on some leftover carrot sticks. Some of his earlier good mood was deflated by a prick of jealousy at how well the other two seemed to be getting on. Although intellectually he knew that the feeling was quite irrational and totally unjustified, he'd had a vague thought that he might have Finn to himself after the work was finished, and his emotions were proving quite immune to rationality.

"I have to say that is quite a remarkably large garden you have, Jane," said Finn. "It seems to be coming up very nicely."

"It did end up a sight bigger than we had planned when we first laid it out years ago, but it gives plenty of room to rotate different types of plants every year," Jane replied. "We put down a goodly load of fertilizer in the spring before planting, and I keep a couple of different compost heaps going so I have piles ready for spring, midsummer and fall." She turned to Ben. "Which reminds me, the old one is about ready and we'll need to be turning the new one later this week."

"Yes, ma'am." Ben's tone was polite but not terribly enthusiastic.

"Ben told me he was helping out with the garden." Finn leaned in with a grin. "Has he managed to find his way around the weeds yet?"

"That is not funny," Ben interjected. He scowled. "It's not my fault all those damned green things look alike to me."

Jane patted Ben's arm. "That's alright, son, I'll keep showing you until you get it figured out." She stood up and stretched. "Thank you again for coming out to help, Qui. I need to be clearing up my kitchen, so I'll leave you two to it."

The two men both stood up.

"My pleasure," said Finn. He watched until Jane was in the house, then turned to Ben.

"So, you have enough energy left to show me how you're doing on your stances, boyo?"

Ben's face brightened. "Yes, sir."

"Shall we begin, Sidai?"

"Yes, Sifu."

They bowed, then went through several stretches.

"I will call out a stance, then you will hold it until I tell you to either stop or move to another stance. Any questions?"

"No, Sifu."

"Assume the starting position."

While Ben relaxed into the initial standing pose, Finn pulled off his denim shirt to reveal a gray tank top. He perched on a picnic table, left hand on one thigh, right elbow on the other. For the next half hour Finn watched critically, occasionally calling out instructions or criticisms, as Ben worked through the exercises.

"Stand and relax."

Finn hopped off the table and walked around Ben twice, finally stopping in front of him.

"Good. That's all for now."

"Thank you, Sifu."

"You are welcome, Sidai."

They bowed to complete their ritual.

"You've come along quite well. I think you're ready to move on to the square form when we get together Wednesday afternoon."

"I'll be looking forward to it." Ben grinned. "It will give me something to think about when I'm pulling weeds."

"I'm sure Jane will give you something else to think about if you don't concentrate on pulling the right things." Finn smiled as he shrugged back into his shirt, leaving it unbuttoned in the still warmth of the evening. "It's been a long day, so I think I'd better be getting back home."

"Thanks for coming out. I'll walk you around to the dooryard," Ben said as they headed through the gate and toward Finn's vehicle.

"It was a good day, nice people, great food and a worthwhile project. I'm glad I came." Finn climbed into his truck and started it. "Until Wednesday then."

"Right. See you."

Ben stood watching for quite a while after the old truck was out of sight. He was pleased that Finn had spent so much time here and heartened by the encouraging news of his progress in Tai Chi, but couldn't help feeling ashamed of his earlier feelings of jealousy when Finn seemed so happy being in Jane's company.

"I guess that's something else to add to the list of things I've got to work on," he muttered to himself before he finally sighed and turned away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Fifteen §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Hey, what's doing?" Ben let one hip rest against the counter in the UPA office.

"The usual. You're looking happy tonight." Sandy Miller stood in the door of her office, a bemused expression on her face. "Is it because it's Friday or is there a special occasion?"

"No, it's just been a good week, and I'm looking forward to running the board tonight," said Ben with a smile. "Can I leave my helmet in your office?"

"Sure, help yourself," Sandy said as she moved to one of the desks to check some paperwork.

As he placed his helmet on a bookcase, Ben reflected that it really had been a good week. He was pleased with the work he had put in on Sunday, had managed to fix a rather obscure problem at work, and had kicked himself in the butt hard enough that he managed to start a journal to help get him working through some of the personal issues he had been putting off.

Finn had not only walked him through the beginning of the square form on Wednesday but had given him a DVD a friend had helped him to make of Finn doing the square form, a DVD Ben intended to study closely. His smile widened; he would definitely work on finding opportunities to study the DVD very closely indeed.

"Well, hello there, my favorite tall, dark and handsome stranger, aren't you looking sharp. To what do we owe the honor of your presence tonight, if I may ask?"

Ben was drawn to the outer office by Sandy's voice. He stopped as he saw Quilan Finn in a freshly pressed uniform.

"One of the other rangers was supposed to come in for one of those 'job opportunity' TV shows," said Finn as he pushed the white Stetson hat back on his head. "He got sick and the boss volunteered me to come instead." He shrugged. "Since I'm here, I thought I'd stop by and say hi before I head over to the TV side."

"It's nice to see you, even if it means sharing you."

Finn looked beyond Sandy's shoulder. "Would you look at who else is here! How are you doing, Ben?"

"Hey. Doing pretty good." Ben leaned on the counter across from Finn. "I'll be working the sound for a live music show at seven."

They chatted for several minutes about various happenings at UPA. Eventually, Finn glanced up at the clock.

"I'd better be heading over to the other side."

"Come on, we can go down the back hallway," said Sandy.

They had gotten only a few feet along the hall when a tall woman in a well-cut pants suit came out of the restroom halfway down, a white lab coat slung over one arm. Her long, dark-blonde hair swung freely as she turned her head in their direction, then did a double-take.

"Qui?" She started toward them. "Quilan Finn? Is that really you?"

"Becky?"

Finn moved quickly toward the woman and enveloped her in a big hug.

Ben could tell from their excited comments that the stranger was clearly a close friend of Finn, and he had to fight down another unseemly spike of jealousy. He glanced at Sandy, who had a smile on her face. He raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

"That's Dr. Barklay. She used to teach here until she got a position as head of the Fish and Wildlife Biology Department at University of Montana about four years ago," Sandy said in a low voice. "She was very popular, has the brains to go with the beauty."

"Yeah, I guess she's mint," Ben muttered.

Finn turned as Sandy and Ben walked slowly down the hall, his arm still around the woman.

"Sandy, you remember Becky? I think you took a class from her, didn't you?"

"Yes, my senior year I managed to get it as one of my science electives. It's a pleasure to meet you again, Dr. Barklay." The two women shook hands. "I was on a waiting list for almost two years to get into your class, but it was worth it. It was tough but I really learned a lot, and enjoyed it too."

"Thank you very much." The doctor had a pleasant but firm voice. "That's one of the things I miss in my current position; I don't get a chance to do nearly as much teaching as I'd like."

"This is Ben Kennan. He's here tonight doing some volunteer work for Sandy's radio group," said Finn. "Ben, this is Dr. Rebecca Barklay, an old friend of mine. She's with the University of Montana these days."

"Pleased to meet you," said Ben as they shook hands. He was reluctantly impressed; Rebecca Barklay was not only physically striking but her demeanor was open and confident, the smile genuine but with a hint of an underlying unwillingness to tolerate fools gladly. "Are you here visiting?"

"Yes, combining business with pleasure. I was attending a conference this week and looking up some old friends, but I have to fly back tomorrow. I was asked to sit in on this TV show tonight to talk about some of the Fish and Wildlife programs our biologists work with." She held up the lab coat with a grin. "Got to look the scientist part, you know." She turned to Finn. "And speaking of old friends, I saw Mack Windham the first day I was here and he said you were going to be out on back country patrol all week, so I didn't bother calling. What are you doing here?"

"The long patrol was actually a couple of shorter patrols. We left about four a.m. on Monday, were in on Wednesday for a while, went back out and found what we were looking for. Since we came back so early today, I got sent over here after Pulaski had to go home sick." Finn smiled. "I have to admit I didn't volunteer for this, but now I'm glad I came."

An earnest young lady in a UPA Staff t-shirt came swiftly down the hall. "Dr. Barklay, the show starts in twenty minutes. We need to get going, please." She looked at Finn. "I hope you are the ranger from Keogami District?"

"Yes, Quilan Finn from the enforcement group."

Her face brightened. "Wonderful, you're the last one for the panel tonight. If you would both come this way?" She started walking back toward the TV studio.

"Nice meeting both of you," said Dr. Barklay as she turned to go.

"See you tomorrow, Ben," Finn added.

Sandy and Ben waved as they watched the other two disappear.

"I believe you have a show to get ready for as well, Mr. Kennan?" said Sandy with a grin.

"Yes, ma'am." Ben saluted smartly. "On my way."

**************** ***************

By the time he pointed Myrna down the road the next morning, Ben felt he had talked himself into accepting the fact that Quilan Finn had a life of his own long before he met a certain young motorcycle mechanic and that what happened in that life, then or now, was not really any of his business. After piecing together the bits of information he had been hearing about Finn's schedule, he realized that the man must have been giving him a remarkably large share of his free time, and he knew he should try to be more grateful for that gift. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

The familiar battered pickup sat in the drive, its tailgate down. Behind it, however, was an unfamiliar white sedan. Ben parked beside the truck and stowed his riding gear before walking past the porch. As he rounded the corner of the house he stopped short, frozen into immobility by the sight before him.

Apparently oblivious to the intruder's presence, Quilan Finn and Rebecca Barklay were standing a scant few feet away, locked in a deep kiss. Finn was clad only in a pair of blue sweatpants, his bare arms wrapped around Becky.

As the kiss lingered, Ben was washed by a wave of pain as the feelings he had been working to control erupted. Any last, tiny forlorn hope that he might someday win his ranger's love was ruthlessly ripped away, replaced by an icy emptiness. He could only stare helplessly, the whimpers of his bleeding heart locked inside.

Becky leaned back, her hands resting lightly on Finn's shoulders. They smiled at each other as she raised one hand to trail a finger down Finn's cheek.

Finn glanced up at Ben.

"I'll, uh, come back some other time," Ben stammered out, feeling a betraying flush rising rapidly up the back of his neck toward his cheeks.

"No, please stay," said Becky. She stepped away, still holding Finn's hand. "You're Ben, right? From the UPA last night?"

"Yes." Ben started backing away. "Look, I really think it would be better if I left." He wanted to run, to scream his hurt, but he couldn't force himself to move any faster.

"I'll just be a minute, Ben, then we can start our session," said Finn.

"Session?" Becky asked in a curious voice.

"I've been teaching Ben some Tai Chi," Finn said a little too casually.

"Oh, really?" Becky turned to look at Ben with a much higher degree of interest. She raised an eyebrow. "You would never teach me that stuff, you lug."

"I didn't think you were interested." Finn shrugged and looked away. He picked up a t-shirt from the nearby table and pulled it on.

"More water under the bridge, I suppose." She began tugging Finn along toward the front of the house. "I really do need to leave if I'm going to catch my plane."

Ben was reluctantly swept along, ending up perched on the tailgate of the truck as Becky made her farewells. He turned his head away during one last kiss, unable to watch as his misery settled into a lead weight in his gut.

"If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me," said Becky through the open window of the car.

"And if you're ever wanting to come back, I'll still be here." Finn kissed her hand, then stepped back. "Take care."

Finn sat on the tailgate next to Ben; he waved once as the car slowly backed out of sight.

"Funny how life works out sometimes," said Finn softly as he stared down the drive. "Becky is a great woman. I really thought she was the one... even proposed to her." He sighed. "Lord, that was a while back... over five years, but I've never forgotten her."

Ben didn't really want to hear any more, but like a sore tooth he couldn't help probing. "So what happened?"

"She's smarter than I am, I suppose. When I finally got up the nerve to pop the question, she just smiled and insisted we live together first." A rueful laugh. "I should have known something was wrong right from the start. Neither of us would give up our house, so we ended up alternating a week at each other's place. Worked at it for almost a year." A wistful half-smile. "Turned out we were both difficult to live with, and it seemed I was always stumbling over her feelings. Eventually, it was obvious that we were both too committed to our other passions in life."

"And?" Another drop of acid on Ben's flayed feelings.

"The final straw was when she got the offer in Montana. She wouldn't leave her lab and new position, and I wouldn't leave the Keo." He shrugged. "We agreed to part as friends, and that was that."

Ben just grunted.

"I'm telling you, Ben, women are wondrous creatures." Finn put a hand on Ben's shoulders. "But if I've learned nothing else about them, it's that I will never understand how they think or what they really want." He squeezed Ben's shoulder, then stood up. "Perhaps marriage just isn't in my stars." He took one last look down the drive, shook his head. "Ah well, life moves on. Come on, boy, we've got work to be doing."

Finn began walking away. He got several feet away and stopped, looked back with a puzzled expression as Ben still sat on the tailgate.

"Are you coming or not?"

A tiny voice of sanity screamed at Ben to stop and walk away until he regained control of his emotions. The pinprick went unheeded as pain and jealousy corroded his soul. It's bad enough the bastard is straight, he snarled to himself, but that damned woman had what I want and threw him away. A red haze throbbed behind his eyes, but he gritted his teeth, stood up and began walking.

The session started well enough. For several minutes they did stretches and breathing exercises together; the soothing familiarity of routine helped Ben to begin grounding himself. The little voice got a bit louder, reminding him that his feelings were quite irrational and he had no right to be jealous about a non-existent relationship. Unfortunately, when he looked at Finn, the man's happily sated expression spawned visions in Ben's head of Finn fucking Rebecca Barklay and painful reminders of what he was doomed to hopelessly forego. Every time it seemed to get a foothold, the echo of reasoned sanity was washed away by a fresh wave of bitter despondency.

"Sidai, the goal of the square form is precision," chided Finn gently. "You want to build the muscle memory so you don't have to expend so much of your concentration on doing the movements properly."

"Yes, Sifu."

"Sidai, try that again. Focus, and move from your center."

"Yes, Sifu."

"That's the third time you've made the same mistake, Sidai."

"Yes, Sifu." Ben was heedless of the touch of irritation that was creeping into Finn's voice.

"Sidai. Have you forgotten everything you've worked on the last month?"

"Sorry, Sifu," muttered Ben testily. He just wanted to get this over with so he could leave to nurse his ragged feelings in solitude and try to get himself back together.

"Stop the form," Finn said sharply. "Give me fifty pushups and then we'll try it again."

Ben stood for a moment. He said dully, "I don't think I feel like doing this today."

"That is the end of the session," Finn said coldly. He stepped close to Ben. "What is going on? I don't know where you are today, but it is clearly not here. I thought we had this discussion already; you tell me if there's a problem or you leave everything else outside the session. There is no point to any of this if your head is up your arse instead of paying attention."

The pain in Ben's heart morphed into anger at the incredible unfairness of his situation and the connection between brain and mouth was abruptly severed. "Maybe all this stuff isn't what it's cracked up to be." He clenched his fists. "Stupid worthless ancient philosophizing and breathing until you're bored silly and ridiculous talking to stupid fucking trees."

Finn moved back, his lips thinned and hands on hips. "When we had our talk about your boundaries, Mr. Kennan, we obviously should have talked about mine as well, because you have just plowed right through a couple of them."

"What does any of this shit matter? Standing around in stupid fucking poses like a dork is a fucking waste of time. It's not doing me any damned good."

"I have spent the greater part of my life making it matter, boy. It is the core of my soul, and I will not have some immature punk denigrate what he obviously does not understand." Finn's eyes narrowed and darkened to a gun-metal blue. "If you are ever ready to thrash out your questions in a civilized, rational and respectful manner, MAYBE I will be willing to discuss this further. Until such time, get on your fucking motorcycle and get out." He turned abruptly and walked away.

Ben was left standing speechless, staring at the figure that rapidly disappeared around the house. The slamming of a door echoed in the silence.

"Well, fuck you too," Ben called out, fuming, as he stomped back to Myrna, jammed on his jacket and helmet, and roared down the drive.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Sixteen §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

For almost two hours Ben sought out backways, cranking the accelerator hard to eat miles. He ignored Myrna's complaints, twice almost losing the road as he slid around corners. Gradually his anger dissipated and he headed back toward home. He dropped his excess speed completely as he passed a police cruiser parked at the edge of a small town. A few miles later, he pulled off onto a small dirt road and parked, letting Myrna tilt to the left as she idled calmly. Without the road breeze, the noon sun beat down, causing sweat to trickle down his face when he pulled off his helmet.

For several minutes Ben simply sat and tried to sort through his feelings. Pain, foolishness and regret all mingled in a swirling, nauseous mass.

"Oh, Myrna, what have I done?" he whispered. Ben reached down to stroke Myrna, seeking a small measure of solace. Myrna chose that moment to grumble, sputter and die.

"Myrna? Myrna!" Ben began frantically working through the controls, trying to start her again. When he thought to check the gas tank, he stared down at the thin layer of gas sitting in one corner. "Shit. I can't believe I did that. Jesus, I am so sorry, Myrna." Slumped in the saddle, Ben could only shake his head, fresh anger now directed at himself. "Could I possibly be any more incredibly brainless?" Tears of frustration stung the backs of his eyes as Ben rocked back and forth, his face in his hands.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid. When the hell is the light going to dawn on Marblehead, you idiot," he berated himself. He dropped his hands and sighed. "Finn tried to help me and now he must think I am such a fucking asshole. He was really starting to like me; now I wouldn't be surprised if he never lets me near his place again after such a stupid, pointless insult." He hung his head and sat miserably for another few minutes.

A truck rumbling past on the lonely road drew his attention. Ben swallowed and dismounted. "Sitting around feeling sorry for myself isn't going to get us home. Let's see if we can't get you going again."

Carefully, Ben shifted the motorcycle back and forth to feed the last remnants of gas into the engine. He managed to get Myrna started and headed back to the small town. The fumes of fuel didn't last long; Ben let the bike glide for as far as possible but still ended up pushing Myrna down the hot asphalt for over a mile. He filled the tank at the lone station's pump and coaxed Myrna into forgiving him long enough to start up again. By the time he got home, it was after two.

As he parked in the garage, Ben was glad to note that both Tammy and Rafa's cars were gone. He didn't quite manage to escape company, however. Jane was in the kitchen stirring something in a small pot.

"Ben, you're just in time. I've been experimenting with a new chicken stew recipe and I'd like you to try it."

Not in the mood to talk but even less in the mood for explanations of why not, Ben sat down at the table and accepted the bowl that was put in front of him. He dutifully moved a few spoonfuls into his mouth but could barely choke it down. He sat staring sightlessly into the bowl, aimlessly pushing vegetables around chunks of chicken meat.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Ben blinked and looked up to find Jane sitting next to him. "Uh, it's good," he mumbled. "I'm sorry... I guess I'm just not very hungry right now." He put the spoon down.

"I'm not referring to the food." Jane smiled kindly and put a hand over his. "Do you want to talk about what's really ailing you, son?"

"I'm not sick, ma'am."

"Maybe not physically, but I'm not a fool, Ben Kennan. I didn't raise a boy of my own to a man and help shepherd young people at the church through their growing pains for over twenty years without learning a thing or two." Jane leaned forward, her hand pressing down just a bit. "You've been showing all the classic symptoms for a while now, Ben. You are in love, and the way you dragged in here, I'd say it's not going too well at the moment."

"No, ma'am, there's nothing like that." Ben floundered for words. "I, uh, ran out of gas and was, um, out in the sun too long... yeah, a little touch of heatstroke or something."

"Not only are you in love," Jane ignored Ben's weak explanation and plowed on, "but you are in love with Quilan Finn, and I'll lay dollars to doughnuts he doesn't have a clue."

Ben froze, his world crashing around him. "N'n'no," he stuttered, "I'm not... I mean, I don't..." A vision of being kicked out on the street yet again twisted his gut into knots.

"It's alright, son, I figured you're gay. I've suspected for quite some time." Jane had a firm hold on Ben's hand. She gave a small laugh and shook her head. "Good Lord, you look like a deer caught in headlights. Calm down."

Ben pulled his hand out of Jane's grip and sat back in his chair, his arms wrapped around himself. "What are you going to do?" His heart was hammering and he could barely get the words out.

"Do?" Jane looked puzzled for a moment, then shook her head sadly. "You poor boy. Somebody's done you down pretty badly about this before, haven't they?"

Ben could only sit and stare helplessly, his throat too constricted to speak further. He couldn't believe how horrendously wrong this nightmare of a day was going.

"I'll tell you what I'm going to 'do'," said Jane briskly. "It's high time we got the air cleared about some things around here. Stay put." She went to the phone and made a short call, then returned. "We are going for a little visit. Come on."

"I don't understand. Please, just tell me what you're going to do," Ben pleaded. "If I have to leave, at least give me a little time to pack."

"Ben Kennan, haven't you learned anything about me yet? I'm not that kind of person." Jane looked annoyed. "The only place you need to be going right now is with me."

"But..." Ben swallowed.

Jane leaned down into Ben's space. "I understand that you're feeling a mite upset, but I wouldn't be prying if it wasn't important. We really need to get some things straight, son." She smiled gently. "I do like you and I want you to stay." She paused. "Do you trust me, Ben?"

Ben looked up into Jane's eyes as he tried to calm himself and think. He finally nodded. "Yes, ma'am," he said quietly.

"Then come with me." Jane straightened and took a step back. "You'll understand why I truly don't mind you being gay if you'll talk to my friends."

Ben drew a deep breath, gradually let it out through his nose. "Alright." He followed slowly as Jane headed for the garage.

After a silent twenty-minute journey, they climbed out of the cab and went to the door of a modest rambler sitting in a row of similar houses with large wooded yards. Two tabby cats sunned themselves on the porch, barely blinking an eye as Jane knocked.

When the door opened, Jane was engulfed in a hug by a heavyset black woman in jeans and oversized t-shirt adorned with cartoon cats.

"Good to see you again, Jane." The woman waved expansively. "Come in, come in." She caught a glimpse of Ben. "Oh Lordy, do bring that delicious young man in here so we can get a better look at him." Her eyes twinkled as she laughed.

Ben started to balk, but Jane grabbed his arm and firmly pulled him along.

"Hello, ladies," said Jane. "Hope you had a good vacation."

"It was quite enjoyable. Thank you for asking." The precise, clipped tone belonged to another black woman, slender and short-haired, who was sitting in a rocking chair, one hand on a cane. Her features were weather-worn but serene. She seemed several years older than her fortyish companion.

"So who is this gorgeous stud you brought us?" asked the first woman.

"Linda, do behave. You are upsetting our visitor."

Jane smiled as Linda stuck her tongue out. "Ladies, I want you to meet Ben Kennan. He's boarding at my place, but needs a little enlightenment on some facts of life between us." She turned to Ben. "This joker is Linda Grant. She's a graphic artist and illustrator of children's books."

Ben shook hands, careful to keep his distance.

"And this is Elizabeth McCormack, formerly Lieutenant Colonel McCormack of the U.S. Army and now retired."

"You'll forgive me if I don't stand up. It takes a few days for my back to fully recover after long trips." She smiled. "One too many drops out of a perfectly good airplane, you see, is what led to my being forced to retire."

"Yes, ma'am." Ben gently shook the hand proffered to him.

"Collectively, these two make up the Liz 'n Linda pair, and they are among my dearest friends," said Jane as she led Ben to a place on the sofa, then sat down next to him.

"What you would like to drink? I've got root beer in the fridge," Linda said temptingly.

"That would be wonderful," said Jane.

"Nothing for me, thanks," Ben added.

"Alrighty." Linda went to Liz. "You stay there, honey, and I'll take care of things." She leaned down and tenderly ravished Liz's lips in a long kiss. She straightened and softly trailed the back of a finger along Liz's chin before departing for the kitchen.

Ben blinked and stared. "I thought you said you were in the Army. You just, I mean..."

"Yes, I was in the Army, and yes, you just saw me kiss my partner," Liz said with a whimsical smile. "As long as they can't prove it and you don't tell them, the Army prefers not to know about things like that." Her expression turned pensive. "It was a very dark closet for a lot of years, though."

"Yes, ma'am." Ben didn't know what else to say, so he sat and waited.

"Here we go, ladies." Linda distributed beverages, then plopped down on the sofa on Ben's other side. "So, what are we supposed to help enlighten our Mr. Ben about?"

"Well, the first thing is that he's lived in my house since March and it was getting right tiresome tiptoeing around pretending I didn't know he was gay, so I'm trying to convince him that I don't have a problem with that."

"Hey, I never actually said I –"

"Now then, Ben Kennan," Jane interrupted. "You look me straight in the eye and just try to tell me you're not gay or whatever you want to call it these days."

Ben swallowed hard. He looked at Jane, drew a breath, his jaw worked, but nothing came out. He finally had to look away.

"Ben, dear," Linda said softly as she patted his leg. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with being attracted to men, or to women and men, or to purple Martians. Finding Liz has been the greatest joy I could ever have in my life."

"I know it shouldn't be wrong," Ben said, staring down at the floor. "But it's not that easy."

"The only thing wrong is other people's unwillingness to accept your right to live your own life the way you wish to," said Liz. "Unfortunately, they can be remarkably shrill and violent in their ignorance. I am assuming you have told no one else and wish to stay closeted?"

"Yes, ma'am." Ben looked across the room. He took a deep breath. "I'm... not ready to deal with being out yet."

"Then I can assure you that Jane will not tell anyone else that you don't want told," Liz said crisply. "But I can also assure you that it can be a very good thing to have a friend who knows and that you can talk to when things are difficult."

"I can understand that you didn't know who to trust when you first got to town, but I want to help you," said Jane. She took Ben's hand in hers. "I kept trying to throw out hints, but until I was sure, you have to admit that it would have been a little awkward to just come out and invite you to the church social because there were going to be some nice boys there that you might like to meet."

Ben finally smiled. "Yes, ma'am. I did wonder what you had in mind about when you kept trying to get me hooked up with a girl, and when I said no, you looked at me like you knew what I was really thinking." He had an alarming thought. "Is it... obvious?"

"No, Ben, but I've spent a lot of years watching people and learning a thing or two about how people work," laughed Jane. "Your secret is safe with me. I was curious, though, as to why you kept shying away from talking to me about it."

"A couple of things, I guess. You were a regular church-goer; in my experience religious types don't like homosexuals. And I'd have to say that I got pretty burnt out on the Catholic church back home. It just seemed like there was an awful lot of hypocrisy and I couldn't stomach it any more."

"Oh, my good Lord," Linda chuckled. "Jane hasn't managed to drag you to a single Sunday sermon?"

"No. Was there any reason I should have gone?"

"The Church of Universal Fellowship is very inclusive," said Liz. "Linda and I both belong. It's not a hellfire and brimstone sort of place at all. The focus is more on personal responsibility, help God to help yourself and your neighbors, and have some fun along the way."

"And the Reverend Charles Jenkins is about as flaming as they come," Linda chimed in with a big grin. "But he is very good about not making passes at members of the congregation or their friends," she added reassuringly.

"Well, maybe I will have to rethink that one of these days," said Ben with another smile. He looked at Jane, hesitated, rolled a shoulder. "The other thing, though..." He cleared his throat. "You had that picture of your son on your mantel. He was a Marine, and I've always heard that Marines are notorious for hating homosexuals. So I just sort of assumed that you didn't like gays."

"Richard was a good son and a good man," Jane said softly. "Being a Marine was the most important thing in the world to him. That doesn't mean he always agreed with everything in their policies." She smiled fondly. "When he was growing up, he did his share of experimenting. In the end he decided he liked everybody, if you will. He didn't tolerate bigotry. But serving his country and being a good Marine were so important to him that he was willing to give up some of his personal preferences to follow that dream."

"Looks like I was wrong all the way around, doesn't it?" Ben said ruefully.

"Ben, if you would like to have some friends, even if it is just somebody to talk to about your troubles, we will all be here for you if you wish," said Liz. "Or if you want some advice about places or people around here that are reasonably safe, you just have to ask. This is a comparatively decent place to live, especially with the university influence, but there are still places you probably won't be comfortable visiting."

"I know. I've seen a little of that first-hand," Ben said, thinking of the vandalism at the UPA building. "I appreciate the offer."

"May I ask what precipitated this particular outpouring of revelations today?" asked Liz.

"Our dear boy has a little problem." Jane squeezed the hand she was still holding. "You see, he is suffering in the throes of unrequited love and has been mooning around."

"Oooo, how romantic," gushed Linda.

"Oh, God," groaned Ben. He could feel the inevitable flush moving rapidly up the back of his neck. "I never said that either."

"Now that was the obvious part, at least to me," said Jane. "I had my suspicions about that too for a long while. Every time you were getting ready to go or coming back from his place, there was a little something different about you, and I caught you doing your share of starry-eyed sighing. So when everybody was out to help build the new corral, I was keeping an eye on you. When you thought nobody was watching, you kept sneaking a stare at Quilan Finn." She smiled, looked straight at Ben. "I know that look, son. It was hunger, pure and simple, hunger of the heart and soul."

"I'd hate to have done something really bad with you around." Ben shook his head slowly. "It's true. And that's a pretty good way to put it, too."

"Quilan Finn?" asked Liz. "I'm sure I've seen that name in the newspapers before."

"He works for the Forest Service in the Law Enforcement group," said Ben.

"That makes sense. I seem to remember the article was something about rounding up some drug smugglers."

"I got to talk to him a fair bit when he was over. He is quite a nice man, Irish charmer, forty-some, and sexy as all get out without making a big deal of it," said Jane. "I'd put him very high on the list of desirables if I was still in the market."

"And I suppose, of course, that he's totally straight," Linda said sympathetically.

"Very, not even a hint of possibly being bi." Ben sighed and slumped down in the sofa.

"I do know exactly how you feel." Liz rocked slowly. "Had the same thing happen to me when I was a young lieutenant. I fell hard for another female officer, not only straight but made it clear that she didn't think much of lesbians." She raised one eyebrow as she shook her head. "You hurt inside so badly, but you know you can't ever say anything."

"That's about how it is," Ben grimaced. "It's like a hole in your heart that you can't fill, a constant ache. I've tried to at least become his friend just so I can be with him, but there are times I don't know if maybe that only makes it worse."

"The way you were today when you came home, seems to me something has gone bad," said Jane. "You looked so terrible I just had to finally say something. What can we do to help?"

Ben bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at Jane, but he couldn't face her and hung his head. "I did something incredibly stupid this morning," he said quietly.

The room was silent as the three women let Ben find his words.

"Things had been going quite well, actually. Finn was teaching me Tai Chi and helping me sort out some issues; I believe he liked me, that we were getting to be friends." Ben glanced up briefly with a passing smile, then hung his head again. "I've been finding that I seem to have a problem with jealousy. Completely irrational and unwarranted, of course, as I have no right to say anything about what he does with the rest of his life. I was even jealous when Finn spent so much time talking to you at the picnic after we built the corral for Rafa's horse."

"We can't always control how we feel about something like that, Ben," Jane murmured sympathetically. "What happened?"

"I went over for a Tai Chi lesson and I found him kissing a woman. It was the kind of kiss where you knew they had spent the night together. Turned out she was a former lover back in town for a few days. Finn even told me he had proposed to her once and it didn't work out." Ben swallowed. "I felt like I had it thrown in my face just how impossible it was for me to ever have that kind of relationship with him."

He had to stop to take several deep breaths. "It just hurt so much... and I was angry that this damned woman had what I desperately needed and threw it away, and at the same time I was jealous because he went back to her. She left to go catch a plane, and I should have left then as well, but I didn't."

Ben stopped again, staring at the floor. Jane squeezed his hand gently.

"Anyway, we began the Tai Chi session. I thought I was starting to get it together, but then every time I looked over and saw Finn's face... I'm sure it wasn't intentional, but he had that kind of happy, well-fucked look... it was like sticking a red-hot poker in my gut and stirring it around." Ben chewed on his lower lip a moment, then let it slide out. He sighed. "I couldn't focus on the exercises, he was getting pissed off because I wasn't paying attention, he finally halted the session. I was so spaced out, I blurted out stupid and hurtful words about things I knew were important to him. He stopped everything right there and told me to leave."

Eyes bright with unshed tears and misery evident on his face, Ben finally looked up at Jane. "I don't know if he will even want to talk to me again after I was such a total jerk. I don't know what to do to try to get him to forgive me."

Jane put her arm around the distraught young man and pulled him close.

"There's always rough edges between people, Ben," said Jane. "That's part of life and always will be. Quilan didn't strike me as the sort of person who holds a grudge, though. You need to give it a try."

"I'm not sure I can. I was so completely wrong... I can still see the expression on his face, like he was angry and disappointed and hurt all wrapped together."

Ben looked up as a chair creaked; he watched as Liz slowly pushed up from the rocker, carefully walked over, then stood before him leaning on her cane.

"How much do you love this man?" Liz asked.

"More than my life." Even as the words came out of his mouth without thinking, Ben knew they were true.

"Do you know where to find him?"

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't go back to work until tomorrow," Ben replied uncertainly.

"You asked for advice, so I'm going to give it to you," Liz said firmly. "If you are truly serious about this, you need to go back to him as soon as you leave here, tell him you were wrong, and apologize as sincerely as you possibly can. Then it's up to him what to do about it."

"I don't know if he will even be home," Ben protested.

"Then sit outside his door until he gets back." Liz stared down at Ben. "It won't be easy at any time, but the longer you put it off, the harder it will get for both of you. Hurtful words fester like an untreated wound; it's far better to deal with the pain once now rather than live with a lifetime of regret."

The room was silent again as Ben struggled with his thoughts. Eventually he drew a deep breath, nodded slowly. He knew all too well the deep and lingering damage that sharp words could cause. He slipped from Jane's hold and stood up, looking eye to eye at Liz.

"You're right, of course." Ben paused, straightened his shoulders. "I just have to find the strength to do it."

Liz acknowledged his words with a brief dip of her head. She put out her hand.

"It was nice meeting you, Ben. Not to rush you out the door, but I think you have something you need to go do now."

"Yes, ma'am." Ben shook her hand. "Thank you."

Linda accompanied Jane and Ben to the truck, giving each of them a hug.

"Listen, Ben, Liz and I were serious about being around if you need some advice or a shoulder to cry on," Linda said. "But if you'd rather talk to a man, go see Reverend Jenkins. It doesn't matter if you're in the church or not and he won't push if you tell him church isn't your thing, but he'll help regardless and he'll respect your privacy."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

Linda stepped back to the porch as they got in. "Don't be a stranger," she called.

Jane smiled and waved as they backed out of the drive, then left Ben to his thoughts on the wordless drive home.

**************** ***************

Helmet in hand, Ben stood next to Myrna pondering his next actions. He had determined that he had no choice but to go to Finn today and try to make amends, but how to convince Finn to take him back?

Ben reached to stroke Myrna, but the cold metal was unresponsive. "Guess I owe you an apology, too. I should have listened to you this morning when you tried to tell me to slow down and pay attention."

"Be sincere, Liz said," he muttered. "How the hell do I do that?"

He hefted his helmet, started to put it on, paused. He looked down at Myrna thoughtfully, then put his helmet away. "I need to try to meet him closer to his terms." Ben ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth as he stared out the open garage door. "There's plenty of daylight left... if I bang a left at the power line right-of-way instead of going around by the road, it's probably less than four miles..."

Thirty-five minutes later Ben was jogging up the long drive to Finn's house. The sight of the old truck set his heart to pounding even faster than the long run warranted. He slowed to a walk, using the tail of his soaked shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. The heat of the sun made him wish he had thought to bring some water, but it was a little late to worry about that.

There was a feeling of emptiness despite the presence of the vehicle. Ben took a minute to get his breathing and pulse back to somewhere near normal. He blew out one final huge breath before heading around the house, making a complete circuit with no success. His heart beat a cha-cha as he stepped up onto the porch. Ben stood in front of the door a moment, then squared his jaw and knocked three times.

No answer.

"Damn." Ben stood uncertainly for a moment. He turned around, took a long futile survey of the clearing and finally sat down on the porch steps to wait.

It was pleasant in the late afternoon; sunlight flooded the clearing, birds sang in the distance, and trees gently waved in the light breeze. The charm was lost on Ben, however, as his attention was focused on listening for any trace of Finn's return.

Time seemed to drag second by second, minute by minute.

Ben tried to practice his breathing to keep his anxiety in check. At first he had little success, but he shook himself and walked through step by step from his toes to the top of his head. He stood and closed his eyes, listening to his breath as he pulled air in through his nose, down to his belly, then back up again.

In. Down. Hold. Up. Out.

Shoulders relaxed, pelvis tilted, head up, center, center, center.

In. Down. Hold. Up. Out.

Awareness of another being poked into Ben's consciousness. He opened his eyes, blinked.

Finn stood eight feet away, hands at his sides, a flat, guarded expression on his face. His gray t-shirt was streaked with sweat.

Any benefits from the breathing exercise were immediately lost as Ben's pulse shot back to triple-time.

"Hey," said Ben tentatively. A weak smile flickered and died in the face of stony silence. Ben swallowed hard and shifted his feet.

Finn looked around, looked back at Ben. "Where's the motorcycle?"

"At home, sir. I ran." Ben shrugged. "It's only about four miles if you follow the power line over the hill."

"Hmmph," Finn grunted. He started walking toward the house.

"I wanted to apologize," Ben began as Finn started to pass him.

"Wait out here if you must." Finn was up the steps and inside before Ben could say anything further.

"Yes, sir," Ben muttered to the closed door.

After having worked himself up to his task, Ben felt thoroughly deflated after the curt encounter. He sat back down on the steps, shoulders slumped, head in hands.

"I suppose that could have been worse," he mumbled through his fingers. "At least he didn't outright tell me to leave again."

Ben raised his head for a moment. He sighed heavily and resigned himself to waiting for however long it took.

Time once more passed slowly. Occasionally Ben would stand and stretch when he got too stiff from sitting, sometimes adding a few stretches or walking around a bit. He didn't want to get very far away, though, and quickly returned to his post on the steps. The sun crawled by overhead, shadows of trees eventually starting to creep across the clearing.

The schnick of a door latch opening pulled Ben to his feet.

Finn was freshly showered, hair still wet, clad in dark green sweat pants and a light green t-shirt with a Forest Service logo on the breast. He held an open bottle of water in his left hand. He stopped at the top of the steps and looked down at Ben.

"Well?"

The brusque snap made Ben flinch as he jerked his shoulders back. He swallowed and tried to find his tongue as he craned his neck back to look up. Evidently Finn had no intention of making this easy.

"I want to apologize for this morning - if you will let me," Ben said slowly, forcing himself to clearly enunciate each word. "I was a complete jerk and I said some very stupid things which I very much regret."

Ben felt small and grungy as he waited in the heavy silence. His neck itched from dried sweat, his mouth was dry and he felt that the sound of his racing heart must surely be audible all the way home. He couldn't bear to look up any more and lowered his gaze to the bottle in Finn's hand. That only made his thirst worse as he watched drops of condensation slide down the clear plastic.

"Let's go back to where that unfortunate conversation started. You still owe me something from then."

"Huh?" Ben blinked and cast his thoughts backward, trying furiously to figure out what in the hell Finn was talking about as he breathed through his partially open mouth. He snapped his mouth shut and looked back up as light dawned. "Oh, that. Yes, sir."

Ben slid over a few steps onto the grass and dropped down. He began methodically knocking out pushups, taking particular care to maintain proper form and go all the way up and all the way down to the ground without stopping. When he reached fifty, he waited in the up position, breathing heavily from nervousness as much as the exertion.

Ben had counted to fifty again in his head before he heard the welcome command to stand up. He jumped to his feet and took a deep breath.

"Alright, Mr. Kennan. Talk to me about this morning."

"I apologize for those things I said. I was an idiot and completely wrong. I really do appreciate everything you have done for me and..." words caught in his throat "and I hope you can forgive me."

"Do any of those remarks reflect your true feelings?" Finn asked softly.

"No, sir." Ben looked up at Finn. "I was just throwing out stupid barbs without thinking. I feel terrible about having said any of that. Please," he pleaded, "you have to believe me."

Finn sighed, tossed the almost-full bottle at Ben and jumped down over the steps. He jerked his head to the right and began striding swiftly toward the corner of the house.

Ben caught the bottle and gratefully began sucking down water as he hurried to catch up. He sat down at the table across from Finn.

"Thank you," said Ben. "I appreciate the water and the chance to talk."

"Ben..." Finn looked steadily at his errant student. "You were making nice progress until this morning, but I have to tell you that you really caught me off-guard with that shit and I had to end that situation before I also did and said some regrettable things. What the hell was really going on?"

"There's no excuse, sir. I can only offer that I am clearly a very imperfect human being." Ben looked down at the top of the table, his hands under his thighs, his face scrunched in embarrassment. "I haven't been making much progress at all in some of my personal issues... and I guess I was so desperate for friendship I started getting jealous." He cursed inwardly at the inexorable heat crawling up his neck and hunched down a little lower. "I know you've been doing a lot for me... giving up so much of your time and attention." He sneaked a quick glance upward. "I was being stupid this morning about Rebecca Barklay, and I should have stopped or left or something before I let my emotions get that far out of control. I'm really, really sorry."

Finn ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe we need to add a few more ground rules. You couldn't have picked better topics to attack with if you had worked on it for a month of Sundays, and I'm still dealing with being blindsided by that. You can challenge me and I do still want you to ask questions if you don't understand something, but I too have boundaries you shouldn't cross if you want to stay; whatever you might think about me as a person, respect for the things I believe in is high on that list. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." Ben felt lower than the belly of Harry the snake and wanted to crawl away right about then.

"If you've got a problem of any sort that you can't separate from the session, you need to tell me before it gets out of hand. Otherwise, I think next time you do something stupid like that, I'm going to show you what the martial arts part of Tai Chi is all about and pound your sorry arse."

"Yes, sir." Ben pulled his hands out and wrapped them around the water bottle. "I, uh, did start a journal. I was hoping that writing my thoughts down might help," he offered diffidently, trying to salvage something positive. "And I've been doing exercises every day." He licked his lips. "Now that I understand how bad the problem with this jealousy stuff is, I'll add that to the list of things that are fucked up inside me." He hung his head. "I'm sorry I'm being such a pain."

"You're not a pain, Ben." Finn stood up. "Well, at least not most of the time," he said wryly. He came around the table and put a hand on Ben's shoulder. "We are all imperfect beings, but as long we recognize that and work on getting better, that's all one can realistically ask for." He squeezed Ben's shoulder once and stepped away.

Ben looked up. "So what happens next?"

Finn looked steadily at the young man for a long moment, finally nodded and smiled. "Right now, we have unfinished business, so shift your arse and let's have a proper session." His expression turned stern at Ben's quick grin. "If you can focus this time. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir," Ben breathed out in a sigh of relief. "Thank you." This time Ben permitted himself only the tiniest of smiles as he followed Finn out into the clearing, determined to prove himself worthy of this second chance.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Seventeen §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After that late Saturday session with Finn, Ben had insisted on running back, a much easier journey than his outbound trip, despite being tired. When he had reached home, all three women had been gathered around the kitchen table eating, so Ben had simply smiled and given Jane a discreet thumbs-up before heading downstairs for a welcome shower.

Life settled down into a new track for Ben; on the surface nothing had changed, but there was a certain level of relaxation in his relationship with Jane now that she shared his secret. She didn't ask questions, but an occasional smile or look let him know that she was there for him. His days were filled with work and sporadic overtime during the busy summer season, his Tai Chi practice, weight work, running and occasional stints at UPA. Ben even managed to finish the training he needed for the Forest Service Volunteer program and his ongoing education in the garden filled in any remaining gaps in the daylight hours.

Thursday was another very early morning session. Finn took Ben on a relatively short but very intense run that once again left the younger man gasping in his wake.

"Just a reminder that you have a long way to go, Mr. Kennan," said Finn with a droll smile as Ben leaned over, hands on thighs, to suck in air.

"Yes, sir." Ben looked up between two deep breaths and nodded. "Point taken."

"Good. Let's get started."

Ben threw himself into the session, working hard to shelve any distractions. For an hour he let nothing but the sound of Finn's voice and the feel of his own body into his head. His reward was two-fold; after the final bow he felt at ease with himself and also won a smile from his teacher.

"Good progress today, Ben," said Finn as they relaxed at the table. "You looked like you were actually starting to understand the movements from within."

"It does come a bit more easily when I don't let any distractions interfere." Ben took a sip of water.

"I have generally found that to be the case." Finn's smile turned into thoughtful pursing. "Is your self-analysis coming any easier as well?"

Ben looked down for a moment, sighed before looking back. "The journal I've begun at least forces me to sit down and try to work on it, but when I look at what I've written, it sounds more like just random thoughts than anything useful. I seem to tend toward venting about some of the specific problems I had those last few years." He didn't add that the pages also tended to get covered in variations of Quilan Finn's name and doodles of his distinctive profile.

"Break it down into small bits instead of trying to solve a big problem."

"What do you mean?"

Finn thought for a few seconds. "The next time you sit down with your journal, write about the first memories you have of your father. No judgments, no analysis, just thoughts and feelings. Start at whatever age you first had awareness of your father. Just keep writing until you are finished, then put it away for a day or two before you go back and read it."

"I'll give it a try. What am I trying to accomplish?"

"Just a place to start thinking about your life and how the relationship with your father developed. Start from the beginning with what you remember, then later you can move on to other small bits. You don't have to show me any of it or even talk about it; just do it."

"Alright." Ben nodded thoughtfully. "I will. Thanks."

"We need to discuss our schedule, also. There is a new investigation in hand and I'm probably going to have to go out on a long patrol for several days, so I won't be able to meet with you on Sunday. I hope to be back for next Wednesday, but you should give me a call before you come over, just to be sure."

"Can do. I'll be off by four so I'll keep that evening free." Ben glanced at his watch. "If there's nothing else, I'd better be heading home to get ready for work."

They walked back around the house and Ben put on his jacket and helmet. He got on his motorcycle, but turned toward his companion when he noticed that Finn seemed to be watching him intently.

"Is there a problem?"

Finn looked past Ben as he held his bottle of water in one hand, a thumb rubbing circles on the slick surface. "About Saturday..."

"I am very sorry about that, sir." Ben tensed. "Is there something else I've screwed up?"

"No, not at all." Finn hesitated, then took a breath. "I just wanted to say I'm glad you came back." He smiled a lopsided shrug of a smile. "Anyway, like you said, it's time to be off to work. See you later."

Ben still sat on Myrna, unmoving, after Finn had retreated inside his house. Finally he started her and headed down the drive.

"Well, well, what do you think about that, my girl?" he said wonderingly.

Myrna just rumbled smugly and sped down the road.

**************** ***************

It seemed the week's surprises were not over. Thursday evening the three boarders were enjoying a glass of iced tea while waiting for dinner to finish cooking in the oven when Jane came in from the barn and shooshed the two dogs into the laundry room.

"Couple of letters came in the mail for you, Tammy," said Jane as she pulled down some envelopes from a niche near the door.

"Thanks," Tammy said, reaching out for the missives.

Rafa talked to Ben about some of the choices she was looking at for her college major. She had gotten to the merits of wildlife management versus pre-veterinary when they were interrupted by a whoop.

"I got it! I got it!" Tammy exulted.

"What did you get?" Jane asked, pausing before opening the oven door.

"A new job in California!" Tammy jumped up and began hugging everybody. "Southern California! No more snow!"

There was a general round of congratulations and questions.

"That's wonderful for you," said Jane. "Do you have a place to stay?"

"My cousin said I could stay with her if I got the position." Tammy hugged Jane one more time. "I've enjoyed living here, but I don't think I could deal with another winter."

"I understand, dear. I've enjoyed having you." Jane smiled. "You must let us do a farewell dinner for you."

Ben watched quietly as the women began their planning, inwardly amused at yet another example of Jane's people sense as he remembered her prediction.

Saturday brought the beginning of August and an altogether different bolt from the blue.

The late afternoon was bright and hot as Ben wheeled Myrna into the welcome coolness of the garage. He stood by the door and wiped the sweat from his face as he idly looked over the dark blue convertible parked along the side of the drive. He wondered if Jane already had a potential new boarder and what changes that might bring to the dynamics of their little household.

Ben went through into the kitchen; Jane was sitting at the table facing him and another woman was at the table with her back to him, shoulder-length brown hair lightened by the sun floating above an aqua-blue silk blouse. Not wanting to interrupt, Ben silently waved a hand in greeting. He stopped and took a closer look as it seemed there was something remarkably familiar about the stranger.

"Don't leave, Ben. You've got someone here to see you," said Jane. There was a big smile on her face as she gestured toward the visitor.

The woman rose gracefully and stepped toward Ben.

"Maureen!"

Ben rushed forward and swept his sister up in a huge hug.

"God, I've missed you so much," Ben murmured as he squeezed harder, grinning from ear to ear.

"I've missed you too, but a little air would be nice." Maureen laughed as she pushed Ben to arm's length. "Let me look at you."

Maureen put a hand on each of his shoulders as she scrutinized her sibling from head to toe. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, she smiled and hugged him once more before stepping back and speaking.

"You're looking good, Ben," said Maureen softly. An unspoken concern lurked in the green-flecked brown eyes.

"I'm doing fine, better than I could have hoped," said Ben.

A clearing throat caused both of them to turn and step toward the table.

"I take it you two have met?" asked Ben. The grin still lit his face as he held Maureen close with an arm around her shoulders.

"We have indeed," said Jane. "We haven't had a chance to swap embarrassing stories about you yet, though."

"We'd probably be here all night if I let you get started on that," laughed Ben.

"Or a couple of days," Maureen chimed in. She poked Ben in the side. "I quite like your landlady, and it seems she has been taking good care of you."

"Yes, she certainly has." Ben turned a fond smile on Jane. "I've found a home here with her help."

"Well, I'm glad you seem to be doing well, but you've not been doing a good job letting me know about it." Maureen pulled away and stood, hands on hips, a stern look on her face. "I'm very disappointed in you, little brother."

"I'm sorry." Ben's grin fled. "It's just that I didn't want you to worry when things weren't going so well and it seems that lately I've been very busy."

"I've decided to do something about it." Maureen went to a large box sitting near the table, opened it and pulled out a laptop computer which she shoved into Ben's hands. "I've brought you a present. Laptop, accessories, printer and a subscription to a dialup internet service. I expect you to use it."

Ben looked down and recognized the model as an expensive one. He looked up. "I appreciate the thought, but I can't take this. It's too nice..."

Maureen rolled her eyes and looked at Jane. "I see he's still got a stick up his butt about accepting help."

"I have noticed that he is quite a prideful young thing," said Jane, not bothering to hide her smile.

"Wait a minute – "

"No, you wait a minute." Maureen poked Ben in the chest. "This is for MY benefit, not yours. You don't write snailmail, you almost never call or return my calls, your emails have been few and too far between lately, and dammit I worry about your sorry ass. It's not a new computer; it's my old one from last year and I've got a brand new better one." She poked again. "So let me make this very clear, Ben Kennan. You will take the computer, you will set it up, and you WILL send me an email at least twice a week so I know you're still alive, you miserable dimwit."

"Oh," Ben said weakly, flushing in embarrassment as he realized how much his shortcoming had bothered Maureen. He looked back and forth between Jane and his sister. "I guess when you put it like that, I don't quite know what to say..."

"Just say yes and thank you." Maureen put the laptop back in the box. She sat down and shook her head. "Men."

"Yes and thank you." Ben took a hesitant step, his face a mask of contrition. "I am sorry."

Maureen looked at Jane and quirked an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

"Hmmm." Jane considered Ben appraisingly. "He does work hard, and it's not like he can help being so young - and a man." She grinned at Maureen.

"I suppose so," Maureen sighed theatrically, then looked up at Ben. "Alright, little brother, I guess I'll keep you." She smiled and wiggled an eyebrow.

Ben leaned down and kissed her cheek with a much more sincere, "Thanks." He straightened, then fetched himself a glass of water before sitting down at the table.

"How are things at home?" Ben asked quietly.

"About the same as usual," said Maureen with a shrug. "I want to know about you, Ben. Are you really doing alright?"

"Yes, things are getting better. I like my job, and I'm starting to get myself together," said Ben with a diffident smile.

"I was truly getting concerned. You haven't been saying much in the emails you did send." Maureen put one hand over Ben's on the table. "But it sounded a little like you've found a friend." She raised an eyebrow. "You know, a special friend?"

Ben tilted his head, then raised an eyebrow of his own in understanding. "Sort of." He leaned in a little and said very quietly, "I'm not out, but Jane knows about me. She figured it out on her own, and she knows how I feel about a man named Quilan Finn. I meant it when I said she's been a good friend."

Maureen stood up and slowly walked around the table. She stopped and wordlessly leaned down to hug Jane. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes bright.

Jane returned the hug and then stood up herself. "Ben's a nice young man. He'll be fine." She cleared her throat. "I'm sure you folks have a lot of catching up to do, and I've got a bit of work that needs doing for my four-legged boarders. You said your plane doesn't leave until tomorrow, so you're welcome to stay the night."

"I don't want to put you out," said Maureen. "I've got a room reserved up by the airport."

"No trouble at all. There's a daybed in the sewing room you can use, and it would be nice to have the company."

"That's very kind of you. Thanks."

"I'll see you a bit later. We'll be eating supper in about an hour." Jane smiled, nodded at Ben, then gathered Dexy and Delilah and headed for the barn.

Ben and Maureen looked at each other for a moment.

"Why don't we take your computer to your room?" suggested Maureen.

"Good idea. Come on, I'll bring the box."

The container was hauled down and its contents unpacked. Ben found a phone jack behind the desk and Maureen insisted that the computer be set up and tested, pestering her brother until he had gotten the internet connection working and had sent her a test email.

"Alright, alright, the email went and your address is in the directory and everything." Ben feigned a grumble from his seat at the desk. "Happy?"

"I'll be happier when I actually get regular emails from your lazy ass," Maureen said with a mock frown. She stood behind Ben with a hand on his shoulder. "Ben..."

"What's up?"

"Look at me." Maureen shifted to stand beside Ben and leaned down. Softly she said, "Tell me true, tell me true, best friends heart twixt me and you," invoking an old childhood ritual that had signified truths and secrets of earth-devastating importance between them, "I need to know how it's really been going with you since you left, little brother."

The casual atmosphere of the visit vanished; the sudden and unexpected words shattered much of Ben's composure and let his long-hidden pain burst through. His throat tightened, he stared open-mouthed, unable to speak. Somehow he managed to lurch to his feet and reached blindly for his sister, clinging to her, trembling as the tears he had denied himself for so long ran unheeded down his face.

"It's alright, Ben... I'm here," Maureen crooned as she held him tight. "Let it go... let it go."

Slowly the blackness bled away, cleansed by the healing release. Ben took several deep breaths as he loosened his grip on both his sister and the bleak emptiness that had been trapped behind his pride and loneliness. He blew out one final long breath and raised his head.

"You look terrible," said Maureen with a little smile.

"I feel better, though." Ben stepped back, looked down. "Um, sorry, I seem to have gotten snot all over your blouse." He dragged the back of his hand across his nose.

Maureen laughed. "You always have such a wonderful sense of the priorities in life. Come on, where's your bathroom? We need to get you cleaned up."

Several minutes later they were back in Ben's room. Ben sat on one end of the bed leaning against the headboard, his face freshly scrubbed. Maureen sat cross-legged near the other end, leaning against the wall, clad in one of her brother's t-shirts while her blouse hung in the bathroom drying.

"First, I want to know what's been going on with you and how you ended up here," said Ben.

"Fair enough, I suppose, since there's not really that much to tell," said Maureen. "You know I was in school until I graduated in May, and in September I'll be going to Georgetown Law School in DC. I'm looking forward to that; it's a dual degree for Juris Doctor and what they call a Doctorate in Government Master of Arts En Passant. It's a great program and should give me a wonderful base for getting into one of the firms dealing with public and international issues."

"So you're still going in for causes instead of the money?" said Ben with a grin.

"You know that's what I've always said, not that there isn't money to be had along the way if you go after the right targets occasionally. Lars is only in it for the money," sniffed Maureen. "That's one of the reasons I wanted that program. Lars is getting his law degree in the spring, but I'll be Doctor Kennan when I graduate, a fact which I will be certain to point out."

"You are so bad," laughed Ben.

"One of the things that hasn't changed is that Lars is still a bastard and a jerk, so I figure he deserves it." Maureen shrugged.

"So what are you doing out here?"

"I've been on that internship I told you about with a firm in San Francisco, left a couple of days after I graduated. I've had a wonderful time working on conservation issues and exploring. There's a fantastic gay community, which is what kept me thinking about you." Maureen pursed his lips and shook her head. "As I said earlier, you weren't saying much in your emails, and I was worried about you."

"I didn't mean to be a bother, but things have been a little... complicated."

"I know, but I couldn't tell what was really happening, so I started tracking you down. I found that motorcycle place where you work, so I knew what town you were in. Then I did some searching on the phone number you had called from a couple of times to find the house. I took a long weekend off, booked a plane ticket, rented a car and drove around until I found this place."

"You always were persistent once you decided you wanted something." Ben snorted and grinned.

"You're not the only one with a streak of stubbornness, little bro."

"I'm glad you came." Ben looked steadily at Maureen, a corner of his mouth quirked up.

"That's what big sisters are for." Maureen tossed her head.

"How is..." Ben hesitated, looked down. "How're Father and Mother?"

"Father hasn't really changed, maybe a little more cynical and hypocritical. He got another promotion at work, and he's still playing the social scene and big shot game." Maureen sighed, the light in her eyes dimmed. "He still won't even acknowledge your existence. For a little while if anybody insisted on asking, he just said you went away and weren't coming back. He got so frosty about that no one even bothers to ask any more, not even relatives." She smiled a little. "He did manage to piss off Grandmother Lanahan. Not that she was ever big on children or grandchildren, but she is fixated on treating everyone fairly. I heard she didn't like the way Father talked to her when she asked after you a while back. They had an argument and now neither of them will speak to the other."

A tiny ghost of a grin flickered and died. "You were right about stubbornness running in the family, I see." Ben sighed, his head still bowed. "I guess I shouldn't have expected anything different."

"Ben, the problem is with him," Maureen said fiercely. "You are a good person and it is none of his business what you do with your private life. It is not your problem if he can't accept that."

"Thanks." Ben quirked a little smile. "I guess sometimes I need to be reminded." He hesitated again. "What about Mother?"

"That one's a little harder," said Maureen thoughtfully. She rubbed a thumb along the seam of her jeans for a moment. "I know she's always been a little distant..."

"I suppose that's one way to put it," said Ben, a sarcastic lilt in his voice.

"That's not completely fair. It's not her fault that neither she nor Grandmother Lanahan seemed to be cut out for motherhood, and I've always thought there was more to her than just her social and charity work. You have to admit she has always truly believed in the Catholic faith, and I think she's a lot smarter than Father, if you can ever get her to talk about things like books and philosophy."

"If you say so." Ben shrugged.

"I overhead her talking to one of her friends that was at my graduation; they were reminiscing about their college days. I did a little sleuthing about that, too. I found out that Mother had a Master's with top honors, mister skeptical."

"For real?" Ben sat up straighter.

"I even found a picture in their online archives. Master's in English Lit."

"But she never said anything about it to us." Ben shook his head. "Just mentioned that she met Father in college, never anything much about what she did there. I always assumed she was talking about when she was working on her bachelor's degree."

"Anyway, I think Mother has been having some second thoughts about you."

"What do you mean?"

"She was spending more time visiting the priest before I left," said Maureen. "And she actually asked me if I had heard anything from you. She seemed rather sad."

"She'll never go against Father." Ben's jaw was set, his tone bitter.

"Perhaps not, but in her own way I think she misses you, so don't write her off altogether. I don't want to see you turning into someone like Father." Maureen looked at Ben, her head lifted. "Please?"

Ben rolled his lower lip between his teeth, then let it slide out. "Alright." He nodded. "I didn't know about her degree, so I suppose there could be a lot more I don't know or understand about her."

"That's my Ben." Maureen gave him a wide smile. "Now it's your turn. I want to hear more about what you've been up to and what's going on with you now."

For the next twenty minutes Ben talked about the various places he had visited after he left home. Looking back, he was even able to have a rueful laugh about that maudlin night on his twenty-first birthday. He ended up talking about finding Jane, his volunteer work at UPA, and his work at Midway.

"So anyway, I never did understand why I ended up out here, but I want to stay. I've met some people who have been very good to me, especially Jane, I'm starting to feel at home here, and I've got a steady job. I do still have some issues in my head to work on; my feelings about Father, about being gay, and I've discovered a few things I don't like about myself, such as how much I miss having lots of money."

"And what about that man you mentioned? Wynn or Finn or whatever?"

"Quilan Finn," Ben said softly, a dreamy gleam in his eyes. "He's wonderful."

"Details, details!" demanded Maureen with a knowing laugh. "Have you found your soul mate?"

Ben's face fell. "I wish." He sighed. "Quilan Finn is with the Forest Service, sort of like a police officer in the woods. I met him through the UPA actually." He smiled. "He has the most magnificent voice... you really should see and hear him doing readings." He shook his head. "It's been a little rocky at times, but I think we're becoming friends. Finn is teaching me Tai Chi and has really given me a kick in the ass about getting my life together instead of drifting along. He's an incredible man."

"Sounds like love to me."

"I do love him," Ben said, his voice so low it could barely be heard. He hung his head and sat very still.

"And how does he feel about you?"

"I think he likes me, but that doesn't matter." Ben raised his head. "He's completely straight."

"Oh, Ben, you poor thing." Maureen crawled along the bed to sit beside her brother and draw him into a hug. They sat silently for a long moment. "What are you going to do?" she murmured.

"The only thing I can do is try to stay his friend," Ben said. He leaned into the hug. "At least that way I can have a little bit of him, even when it hurts to be with him because I know I can never really have him."

"He must be quite a man if you're that lost on him."

"He is." Ben had a thought and sat up. "I can show you." He climbed out of bed and went to his desk. "Here, he gave me a DVD of himself doing the Tai Chi routine I'm supposed to learn." He grinned. "I can play it on the computer now instead of having to keep sneaking upstairs late at night to use Jane's TV and player." Ben put the disc in the computer and turned on the presentation.

"Oh. My." Maureen nudged Ben aside to get a closer look as the precisely controlled power flowed on the screen.

"What do you think?" Ben's grin was even wider as the show ended.

"I haven't seen anything that smoking in ages." Maureen pantomimed fanning herself. "Talk about hot!"

"Oh, yeah," breathed Ben. "Scorching!"

"Well, if you're going to die of unrequited love, you certainly picked a worthy target to swoon over." She hugged Ben again. "If you ever give him up, you absolutely must let me know."

Ben's response was interrupted by a call from the stairway. "Supper in ten minutes."

"Coming, ma'am," Ben called back up, then turned to Maureen. "We should head up."

Tammy was out on a last round of parties with her friends, so there were only four for the meal. Maureen had always been a good people person, so she kept the conversation flowing easily with tales of Boston and Ben's misadventures, while encouraging Jane and Rafa to speak by showing a genuine interest in them. They lingered over ice cream and apple tarts for quite a while before Ben and Maureen retired to the back porch to talk some more, staying late into the night with reminiscences of the past and hopes for the future.

The next day Ben had to be at work by ten, so Jane put on a big breakfast before sending them on their way. Maureen followed Ben in, stopping at Midway to see where Ben worked and to meet his coworkers, then Ben went back out to the rental car to see her off.

"I really appreciate you coming out to see me," said Ben as they stood by the car. "I missed you a lot, but I didn't want to sound like I was whining."

"I understand. I missed you too, but I know how important it's been to you to be able to stand on your own two feet, even when I thought you went a little too far in not wanting to accept help."

"That's another thing Finn is trying to knock into my thick skull," Ben said with a laugh. "To accept help with grace and dignity, and stop being stupidly stubborn about some things."

"Sounds like he's been good for you." Maureen lowered her voice. "I know it seems pretty impossible from what you've told me, but I do hope something might work out some day."

"Who knows, I can always hope for a miracle." Ben ducked his head and shrugged.

Maureen pulled her brother into a long hug before reluctantly letting him go and climbing in the car.

"Remember, I want to hear from you. Write me, email me or call collect. You got that?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thanks again for the computer." Ben leaned in the window. "Love you, big sister."

"Love you, too, little brother. Take care."

Ben stood back, waved as the car pulled out. He smiled wistfully as he stood watching it disappear down the road, then shook himself and went back to work.

**************** ***************

"Penny for your thoughts, Ben." Jane chuckled a little. "Or should I say Irish pence?"

"Oh, sorry." Ben ducked his head with a rueful grin, realizing he had been sitting and staring into his bowl of oatmeal ever since Rafa had left the table to feed her horse. "Yes, it seems like he's always in there somewhere." He decided he was finished and took his bowl to the sink to wash it. "I wanted to thank you again for letting Maureen stay over last week."

"Tschaw, just basic hospitality, son," said Jane. She turned a page in her account book and made some notes. "Your sister appeared to be a fine young woman, and it surely did cheer you up seeing her."

"It seems like she's always taken care of me, one way or another," said Ben. He put the bowl and silverware away, then leaned against the counter. "It was good seeing her again. I didn't realize just how much I really missed her until then."

"Family's a powerful thing in this world," said Jane as she jotted a few more figures. "Blood kin or not, family can be a comfort or a curse."

"Yes, ma'am." Ben nodded, a pensive touch of smile on his lips. "I've been finding that out more and more these last several months."

"That's a good thing to know." Jane straightened up from her book and turned her head. "Here's another good thing. You're doing darned fine on your account. Been staying up with the current rent right proper and looks like we should have you all caught up with the back rent and all by the end of September and some extra too."

Ben sat down at the table and took a quick look at the neatly annotated numbers. "About time." He looked up at Jane, his lower lip tucked in. "I'm sorry it's taking so long, but I'll stay caught up in the future."

"Don't worry about it, son. You got off to a tough start, and it's not like I ain't got enough to keep a roof over our heads." She raised an eyebrow as a twinkle came into her eye. "Just be thankful I haven't been charging you back for those poor vegetables you been pulling up by mistake. For such a bright young man you sure seem to have an awful problem figuring out the difference between a weed and a turnip."

Ben's cheeks flushed and he mumbled an incoherent apology as he remembered his latest infraction a few days earlier. He had been out in the garden, cursing in frustration as he stared down at the three young carrots in his hand that he had been certain were weeds. He had swung his head up sharply as he heard a silvery laugh from just outside the fence. Rafa was sitting bareback on her pretty young mare watching him; it was so rare to hear the shy young woman laugh out loud that Ben swallowed the curt words he had been about to utter and just shook his head and shrugged. She had dismounted and let him feed the incriminating evidence to Cel, who munched happily, then turned her loose in her corral. Rafa had come back and spent almost an hour taking him down row by row, repeating Jane's patient lessons on which plants were which and which green things should be pulled. She only smiled and murmured that her family used to have a garden when Ben tried to ask where she had learned so much.

"And it's alright to feed the mistakes to Cel if Rafa doesn't mind. I figure Cel makes up for anything she eats with her contributions to the compost heap." Jane was openly smiling now.

Ben just stared for a moment. "Is there anything that goes on around here that you don’t know about?" he asked.

"Well, an old woman has to have a few secrets to stay ahead of you young people nowadays," she said with a wave of her hand.

"Yes, ma'am." Ben heaved a sigh and a small laugh. He looked at Jane as his brow furrowed, started to speak, then bit his lip.

"Something you want to ask, just spit it out. You ought to know by now I don't bite," Jane said gently.

"Yes, ma'am." Ben hesitated again, not sure if it was his place to speak, then plunged ahead. "The other day Rafa was helping me in the garden for a while..." He paused and chewed his bottom lip again for a second, then looked away. "Later, I was putting the tools away in the barn and I heard someone crying. I kind of sneaked down to the end of the barn; Rafa was in the stall with Celesta with her arms around Cel's neck." Ben looked back at Jane. "She was the one crying... I didn't know what to do since it looked like she had gone in there to be alone and I didn't want to bother her." He shrugged helplessly. "I just left, but I feel bad for her when I think about it. I may have left home, but at least my family is still alive... she lost everything in that fire."

"Your feelings do you credit, Ben." Jane reached over to hold Ben's hand. "A thing like that takes a while to get over, and sometimes it just hits you hard and you got to let it out. You did the right thing by letting it go." Jane smiled reassuringly. "She likes you fine, but she's still finding her way and isn't ready yet to open up to you. I had a long hug with her that night and let her talk it out. Don't worry, Ben, when she's ready, she'll let you know. Until then, all you can do is try to be a friend and let her take her own speed."

Ben nodded slowly. "Like I'm still finding my way?"

"Something like that, son." Jane stood up, smiled softly and patted Ben's shoulder. "I'll be around for both of you when you got the need."

"Yes, ma'am." Ben looked up, a little lump in his throat, and smiled back.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Eighteen §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A day of light rain was followed by three days of sweltering heat that far exceeded the normal early-August temperatures. The late afternoon sun was still burning down as Ben parked near Finn's truck and pulled his helmet and jacket off. He was sweating and felt light-headed as he dismounted. "I hope it's just this weather and not whatever has been going around." Ben laid his gear onto the seat, then stood for a moment in his t-shirt and jeans. Several days earlier some sort of twenty-four hour bug had started striking at Midway; Ben had worked harder than usual that day because Mattie had gone home after only an hour at work which was spent mostly in the bathroom.

Ben stood up and took a few deep breaths, decided optimistically that it was probably just the heat and headed for the usual rendezvous.

Finn insisted that they each drink a full glass of water before they started and moved their session into the shade, but within ten minutes, Ben was sweating profusely. Fifteen minutes into the session a flush of weakness washed over him and he stopped abruptly.

"Sidai? What's wrong?"

A vicious cramp ripped into Ben's gut and he doubled over, grabbing his stomach. "Damn! I've got to find a bathroom," Ben gasped. He grimaced and tried to move.

"This way!" Finn said as he seized Ben's shoulders and hustled him along into the house, practically carrying him the last several feet, and got him into the small bathroom barely in time.

Ben spent a very uncomfortable few minutes which seemed to take much longer. Just when he thought the spasms in his lower gut were finished, the remnants of his lunch decided to eject themselves.

There was a knock on the door. "Ben? You alright in there?"

"Just a minute," Ben called back. He decided that the worst was over, at least for the moment, although there was definitely a lingering queasiness. He tentatively stood up, flushed the toilet again and washed his hands before opening the door.

"Hey. Thanks." Ben tried to take a step forward, but settled for leaning against the doorframe instead.

"Jaysus, you look bloody awful. You're white as a ghost."

"I feel awful. I think maybe I caught something that's been going around at work."

Finn took Ben's arm, steered him to the living room and sat him down on a long brown cloth sofa. "Stay there. I'll get you something to help your stomach."

"I don't want to put you to any trouble. I'll just go home and lie down." Ben tried to stand up but wobbled on his feet as the room seemed to spin around him.

"You are in no fit shape to be going anywhere, especially on that motorcycle," Finn said firmly. He pushed Ben back down, adding "Stay put."

Ben was too weak to protest further and leaned back, squinting a bit as he looked around. The room was simply furnished; aside from the sofa, there was a small side table with a tall lamp, an outsized wooden rocking chair, several sets of shelves holding books, records, tapes, and CDs, and a display case that Ben didn't have the energy to explore at the moment. In one corner was a desk holding a portable stereo and laptop computer. An open window let a generous amount of sunlight stream in. He closed his eyes and tried to think about anything but his insides.

A weight settled beside him on the sofa and warm steam approached his face. "Here, drink this," Finn urged gently.

"Hmmm?" Ben cracked an eye ajar to see a large mug being held near his mouth.

"Careful, it's still hot. It will help."

Ben obediently let the liquid enter his mouth. It flowed across his tongue and slid down his throat, leaving an odd herbal taste behind. He tried to reach one shaky hand up to take the mug.

"Easy, just let me hold it for you," Finn said as he carefully tipped the mug until Ben had finished the entire contents. "There you go. Better?"

Ben nodded. "A bit." There was a warm tingly feeling in his stomach that seemed to be easing his discomfort. "What was that?"

"A little something my ma taught me," said Finn. "Some herbs, ground-up Tylenol, honey. Usually works, but it may take several doses if you're as sick as you look. Sit there while I wash out the cup. Try to breathe slowly and relax."

Time seemed to float for several minutes as Ben tried to follow Finn's advice. When he became vaguely aware of footsteps, he opened his eyes to see Finn standing in front of him.

"I'm afraid your color isn't much better and you're still sweating." He moved forward and put the back of his hand on Ben's forehead. "Definitely too warm. I'm thinking you'd better lie down for a bit. I'll get you some pillows."

The herbal taste in Ben's mouth gave way to a sour bile that crept up the back of his throat. Suddenly, he opened his eyes wide and cursed as another acute cramp propelled him up and toward the bathroom again. This new bout was even worse as his body seemed intent on turning itself inside out.

An urgent knock was followed by the door slipping open a few inches.

"Awharkkgg." Crouched on the tile floor, Ben tried to empty his stomach again into the toilet. He hung over the porcelain trying to get his breath among the miasma of bodily wastes as the contractions finally subsided.

"Let me help you."

Equal parts of misery and mortification permeated Ben's remaining consciousness as a large hand settled on his shoulder. With one hand, he tried to hitch up his pants which were bunched around his knees and grabbed for the handle of the toilet to flush it with the other.

"Sorry," Ben croaked. "I didn't make it in time."

"Don't be worrying about it. Let's get you cleaned up."

A warm wet cloth moved gently over Ben's face and neck.

"Rinse your mouth out."

A glass was held to Ben's mouth; three times he took a large sip of cool water, rinsed, and spat into the toilet.

"If you can get those clothes off, I'll find you something else to put on. Can you do that by yourself?"

"I think the worst is over for the moment." Ben took a deep breath. "I can manage."

"Alright. Towels are on the rack behind you, soap is in the shower if you want to rinse off. I'll be back shortly."

"Thanks." Ben took a few deep breaths, then carefully pulled off the t-shirt stained with dribbles and splashes of vomit. He held on to the edge of the sink as he stood up, toed off his sneakers and socks, then wrinkled his nose as he gingerly slid out of the soiled jeans and undershorts. He cautiously stepped into the shower stall and slowly cleaned off the residue of the attack.

"How are you doing?" came a muffled voice.

"I'm good." Ben wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door.

"Here. It's the smallest I had about, but it should work. Call out if you need help. Okay?"

"Alright. It'll take me a few minutes to clean up this mess," Ben said as he turned back with a grimace of distaste.

"Just leave it." Finn put a hand up to forestall any further protest. "Leave. It."

Too weak to argue with the formidable force that was Quilan Finn in caregiver mode, Ben nodded meekly. "Yes, sir."

After the door closed, Ben put the towel back. He pulled on the pair of cutoff sweats that might once have been blue, tightening the drawstring as much as much as he could to keep them up, then slipped into the soft green t-shirt that hung off him less than he expected. A faded Forest Service logo adorned the chest of the shirt. He had to pause once, then got his bearings again and ventured back to the living room.

"Ah, there you are." Finn cast a critical eye over his patient. "Come over here and lie down."

Now beyond even a pretense of a protest, Ben gratefully slid between the sheets Finn had put down, settling into a partially reclining position against the pillows at the end of the sofa.

Finn held a cup for Ben, saying, "Drink this. We need to get fluids in you," as Ben obediently drank more of the herbal concoction. "If you get chills, there's a blanket here on the top of the sofa. If you're needing anything call out."

Ben nodded as he sagged down into the pillows with a weary sigh. The budding headache that had been lying in wait blossomed into a sharp cactus that bit hard if he moved his head too fast. Closing his eyes and retreating into slow deep breathing was only minimally successful in relieving his distress. He groaned as another cramp twisted his innards, but this time it passed without necessitating another bathroom run.

Some time later Ben heard a low voice calling him. He grimaced a little as he let light penetrate his eyeballs.

"Sit up a bit." A strong arm lifted Ben almost upright.

"Oh, God," Ben moaned.

"Here, you need to take some of these."

"Don' wanna..."

"Open up," Finn persisted until Ben gave in. As soon as Ben's mouth opened a bit, Finn pushed a capsule in and followed it with water. "Swallow." It took a few tries but Ben finally managed it. Twice more Finn cajoled the young man into ingesting a gel capsule.

"What's 'at stuff?"

"Powdered ginger. It will help the nausea," Finn said as he let Ben back down into the pillows. "Here, hold this."

A sports bottle with a plastic straw was pushed into Ben's hand. He took a small sip. "Hey, not bad," Ben said, then took another sip.

"Slowly, just a little at a time." Finn tucked the sheet in loosely. "There's honey, a little lemon and salt and a few other things in the water. I don't want to try anything too drastic for the runs yet, but we want to keep clear fluids going in."

Ben tried to turn his head but the spines of the cactus jabbed the base of his brain. "Jesus, that hurt."

"Stay still and close your eyes."

A cold pack eased the pain in his head. He tensed a bit as he felt two hands settle near his neck.

"Easy. Breathe slowly."

Strong fingers carefully massaged the base of Ben's skull, luring him into relaxation. For a while he simply drifted, occasionally taking in more of the water, until the next urgent seizure sent him running.

For the next few hours, Ben alternated between lethargic despondency and spikes of wretched torment. On his fourth trip, he found that a small tub of petroleum jelly had been discreetly placed on top of the toilet tank next to an extra roll of toilet paper. By that point, he was willing to take any help he could get and delicately applied a generous dollop to his abused nether region.

As he dismally dragged himself back to the sofa, Finn handed him a fresh bottle with one hand while he held a cell phone to his ear with the other. Ben laid himself down and sucked in a little more of the water mixture as he caught part of the one-sided conversation.

"No, that's alright. I'm thinking it wouldn't be a good idea to move him."

"I'm hoping it's just one of those twenty-four bouts. He mentioned that there was something going around where he works." Finn sat down in the rocking chair.

"Don't worry, 'tis no trouble at all. He might be wanting a change of clothes in the morning, though."

"You're quite welcome. Good night." Finn closed the phone and set it on the side table.

Ben tried to focus; he looked around and realized the sun was setting, leaving a dim orange light filling the room. He gasped when he moved his head too quickly and the headache drove a spike through the left side of his face.

"Stay still," Finn said softly as he laid a hand flat on Ben's chest. "Did it feel better with the ice or the warm cloth?"

"Ice, please." Ben closed his eyes and waited hopefully.

"Here you go." Finn placed an ice pack on Ben's forehead. "Just try to relax. Breathe slowly," he repeated.

"Ahh, feels better," Ben said weakly. "I don't have to center?"

"Perhaps your center isn't such a good place to be thinking about right now," Finn said with a smile. "We'll give you a pass this time."

"Yes, sir." Ben licked his lips. "Who was that?"

"On the phone? I thought it might be a good idea to let your landlady know where you are."

"Oh, yeah." A few more breaths passed as thoughts floated sluggishly in Ben's brain. "Thanks. She tends to worry."

"You're welcome."

Ben dozed again, sliding in and out of foggy misery, more often than not roused by the roiling in his gut. During interludes of wakefulness, Finn kept replenishing his bottle; whatever he was adding in must have helped as the intervals between dashes to the sanctuary of the ivory throne gradually lengthened. When fever became mixed with an occasional chill, Finn spread a blanket over his recumbent form. During one break, when Ben was vaguely aware of soft music playing somewhere, he looked past his feet and saw his ranger sitting in the rocking chair reading, the lamp pulled close and turned low.

Some time in the very early morning Ben awoke again. The window was open and bright moonlight silvered the contents of the room; he pulled the covers a little higher as a breeze teased the air. Ben peeked through heavy, barely open eyelids. Dream or reality... he wasn't certain as he contemplated the vision a few yards away.

Elfin light fell across the man sitting in the large rocking chair, its outline hidden in blackness. Shirtless, his bare arms and hints of the torso hidden under a partially draped blanket reflected moon shards back to the night. The ghostly face was propped at an angle on the loosely clasped hands, elbows rested on knees as the figure sat motionless, leaning forward. A lock of dark hair flopped down near eyes that glinted from shadows under the furrowed brow.

Ben felt transfixed by the relentless gaze and lay motionless, barely breathing. The tableau seemed surreal, a disembodied figment of his fevered brain, but he quickly tired of the effort needed to sustain the apparition and faded once more into oblivion.

"Uuuhhhuuuhhhh." Ben cautiously stretched and let out a muted sigh of relief when his body proved relatively cooperative. He opened one eye, squinting in the sunlight. When nothing untoward happened, he blinked and squinted both eyes.

"Good morning. How are you today?" Finn sat in the open window clad in faded jeans and tan t-shirt, one bare foot dangling.

"Just fucking peachy," Ben complained querulously, "weak as a kitten, my head hurts, my throat is raw, my stomach feels like a garbage pit and my ass feels like I used sandpaper to wipe it with."

"Sounds like you're having a normal recovery," said Finn with a bemused smile.

Ben groaned and lay still.

"The sun is shining," Ben observed, one eye narrowed.

"Indeed. 'Tis a fine day, noticeably cooler than the last few," Finn commented cheerfully.

Ben watched sun motes for a bit as the mush that currently passed for his brain tried to figure out the significance that he was certain was attached to this meteorological phenomenon.

"The sun is shining." Perhaps repetition would help him figure this out.

"Yes, I think we have established with reasonable certainty that it is actually the sun and that it is shining."

"Not funny," Ben said distinctly. He glowered at the grin on Finn's face. Suddenly inspiration struck. "What time is it?

"Going on for half past nine."

"Half past nine," muttered Ben. He turned his head, one eye scrunched as he tried to think. "Shit!" He sat bolt upright. "I'm supposed to be at work." A surge of nausea grabbed him as he tried to claw his way to his feet.

"Lie still." Finn was across the room in an instant, kneeling beside the sofa and pushing Ben back down. "If you get agitated, you'll undo whatever good you've gotten from the rest."

"But I've got to get to work," said Ben weakly.

"No, you don't. I called Midway and talked to a gentleman named Frank Mendoza." Finn stood up. "He said that if you've got what he had last week, he doesn't want you dragging your germs back in there for at least another day or two."

"Oh." Ben finally relaxed. Another thought tweaked his now-throbbing head. "Aren't you supposed to be at work today?"

"There was nothing urgent going on," Finn said with a shrug, "and I've got a ton of leave I need to use. Besides, it's a nice day to be taking off." He smiled. "You just stay there and I'll make us some tea." He turned and headed for the kitchen.

Forearm across closed eyes, Ben melted back into the sofa. As his mind cleared a little, he wondered blearily how he got into these kinds of situations. He certainly had never thought that his first invitation inside Finn's house would be because he needed to puke his guts out in the man's bathroom. He groaned in self-pity. It was so fucking unfair; Finn had held him and taken care of him, and he had been in no position whatsoever to enjoy a bit of it. And the balance of debt was certainly getting very lopsided; he strongly suspected that Jane had offered to come and pick him up the previous evening but Finn had insisted on keeping him here.

"Damn," he moaned.

"It will go away eventually," came Finn's cheery voice as he returned with a large steaming mug in each hand.

"I hate being sick," Ben whined, keeping his other frustration to himself. He put his arm down and looked up.

"Don't we all?" Finn set the mugs down on the side table. "Can you sit? Slowly, now, you don't want to be setting your headache off again."

Under Finn's watchful eye, Ben cautiously levered himself into an upright position, then settled back.

"Here you are. I kept yours fairly weak, with plenty of honey." Finn handed Ben one of the mugs. He brought a small plastic bottle back over, opened it and shook out two pills. "You should take a couple of these while you're at it." He dropped the tablets into Ben's hand, then retrieved his mug and sat down in the rocking chair.

"Thanks." Ben put the pills in his mouth and took some tea to wash them down.

There was silence for a few minutes as the two men sipped their tea, each lost in their own thoughts. Ben finished his and set the mug on the sofa next to his thigh. He cleared his throat.

"I, umm... want to thank you for taking care of me," Ben muttered, embarrassed, looking down as he cocked one shoulder. "Sorry I'm being such a nuisance."

"I have often been accused of having a soft heart for pathetic strays," said Finn with a lopsided smile. "In any event you're not a nuisance, you're sick, which is a different thing altogether and certainly not your fault."

"Yes, sir," mumbled Ben. He wondered if that was how Finn really thought of him, but was afraid to ask if he was just another in a stream of 'pathetic strays'.

"Well, thanks anyway." Ben toyed with the mug, running a finger around the rim.

"I know that look, Mr. Kennan. Are we back to having issues about letting people help you?"

Ben didn't answer for a long moment. He ran a hand through his sweat-matted hair and sighed. "I seem to be on the short end of the stick an awful lot of the time."

"Look at me." Finn walked over and stood directly in front of Ben, then waited until the young man complied. "You need to get over this idea that people helping each other is about keeping accounts on how much you did for a specific person or how much they did for you. This time I was able to do something for you, the other day we both did something to help build that corral, and I'm probably going to need your help again with my truck one of these days. Just think of it as being a good citizen in the human race; it's what people do for each other."

"Yes, sir. I'll keep working on that." A pronounced lurching in his stomach reminded him he still had other things to work on. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Ben took the hand that Finn extended and carefully stood up. There was little nausea if he moved slowly, so he took his time. He spent several minutes taking care of his bodily needs and washing up, then went back down the short hall to the living room.

Finn was at the desk, glasses on and laptop computer open. Ben felt well enough to stay upright for a few more minutes. He shuffled across the floor to take a look at the tall narrow open display case that he had ignored the night before.

There were two shelves at the very bottom that held various small boxes, but the centerpiece in the case was clearly the steel sword hanging point down, the handle at eye level. The subtly tapered narrow steel blade was about three feet long, the burnished metal guard carried the circular yin/yang symbol and the handle was a deep dark wood. Bright red tassels were attached to the end of the handle just under the pommel. To each side of the steel sword was a smoothly polished wooden sword with a similar size blade, small curved guards and slightly patterned handle. Along each side of the case stood a long staff of brown wood.

"May I?" Ben asked as he held a hand near one of the wooden swords.

Finn looked up from the computer briefly. "Help yourself," he said and went back to work.

Using two hands, Ben carefully lifted the object from its hooks. He stepped back toward the center of the room and shifted the sword to his right hand. He lifted it up, slowly swung it around a few times, judging its balance and weight. Ben moved into a long-unused fencing stance and smiled as he simulated a thrust and parry in slow motion, then returned to a stand, shifting his hold to bring the sword back in close. One brow lifted as he caressed the satin surface with his other hand.

"That is a Tai Chi practice sword." Finn had closed the laptop, laid his glasses on the case and turned in his chair to watch.

"It's a little heavier than I would have thought and the handle is longer than I was used to with a fencing foil," said Ben thoughtfully. "The wood is incredibly smooth, too."

"It's very dense wood. I wanted something close to the weight of the metal sword, which is actually relatively light and quite flexible," Finn said as he nodded his head toward the display case. "I put extra time into the sanding and finishing."

"You made these?"

"Aye, I do a little woodworking as a hobby."

Ben remembered the tools that Finn had brought to the corral building session, then looked around the room at the rocking chair, shelving and table. "Did you make all this?"

"Over the years, yes." Finn shrugged. "The evenings get very long in the winter. I converted the spare bedroom into a sort of workshop and odds and ends room."

"This is very good." Ben swung the sword slowly around and over his head. "Lovely balance." He looked eagerly at Finn. "Do you suppose...?"

"No," said Finn firmly. "Until you are proficient in the basic short and long forms, there will be no weapons training. Depending on how fast you progress, that could take anywhere from two to ten years."

"Yes, sir." Ben's face fell and he regretfully returned the wooden sword to its place.

"Think of it as a goal to work toward," said Finn softly, trying to remove a bit of the sting of the denial. "You'll appreciate it that much more when you're truly ready to move to that stage."

"Hmmph," Ben grunted. He moved back to the sofa and sat down heavily.

"Now, now, you must remember that patience –"

"Is a virtue. Yeah, yeah," said Ben somewhat sourly. He lay down with a small groan and pulled the sheet over his head.

Ben drifted off, so he was not sure how much later it was when a long knock on the front door got enough of Ben's attention for one eye to peek out.

"You can stay there and I'll get that," said Finn.

"Like I'm going anywhere," Ben muttered to himself as his stomach wobbled. He burrowed back under the covers.

The vague voices and clatterings from the kitchen were not enough to rouse Ben's interest as he huddled in his private wallow of gloom. He resolutely ignored the footsteps that he heard entering the room.

"He's in here, more or less still alive, though I suspect he's wishing he wasn't at the moment."

A hand tugged at the sheet that Ben grimly clutched until it was pulled away from his weakened grasp. Ben growled at Finn's grinning face that loomed over him and grabbed futilely at the covering.

"He does look right pitiful, and from what you said it sounds like he's reached the grouchy stage," came a familiar voice.

"Mrs. Brandon? What are you doing here?" Ben asked, rolling onto his side with a small grimace.

"And good morning to you, too, young man." Jane stood with hands on hips, one eyebrow raised.

"Sorry," Ben muttered, trying to recover some semblance of manners. "Good morning. It's nice to see you." He managed to get up onto one elbow.

"That's better. How are you feeling?"

"I think the worst is over, but I still feel pretty achy and get nauseous if I try to move too fast."

"That's not so bad, then. Definitely sounds like one of those 24 hour bugs. I brought you some chicken soup and a change of clothes. And since I figured that our Mr. Finn has been too busy taking care of you to do much for himself, I brought him some of my breakfast casserole, stew and fresh bread."

"It smells wonderful, too, but there's far more food there than I could possibly eat. After we feed Ben, could I persuade you to share some brunch with me?"

"I reckon I could do with a bite. It's such a beautiful day, maybe after we get some soup in him we could get Ben out for some fresh air while we eat outside."

"Sounds like a plan."

Ben tried to sit up, but his stomach roiled with a wave of nausea and he slipped down onto his back again. "Wait a minute, what if I don't feel like doing any of that stuff?" Ben asked, hearing the petulance coloring his words. He wanted to pout, but caught himself in time.

Finn turned to look at Ben. "You are sick, and if the lady says you need to eat the soup to get better, you will eat the soup, boy, and you will do it without any backtalk to her," he said. "The fresh air will be good for you, too, and if necessary I will carry you outside myself. Do you have any questions, Mr. Kennan?"

Ben stuck his jaw out and dared a mock glare, having regained enough sense to realize that he was outnumbered and outmatched. He drew the sheet around him with a surly, "No, sir."

Jane sat down on the edge of the cushion beside Ben and patted his arm. "Ben, if you're really not up to eating that's alright, but I do think it would you help you get your strength back faster, so you would you at least try a little, please?"

"Yes, ma'am." Ben dropped his head; he wasn't happy about Finn's barking, but he did feel bad about being such a pain in the ass when they were trying to help him. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it, son, people usually aren't themselves when they're sick." Jane patted his arm again and smiled before standing up. "It really is a beautiful day outside, too, but if you want to stay in here, you just tell me."

"You're probably right," Ben said. He tried to smile a little as he looked up. "I guess it would be kind of nice to get out a bit."

"That's the way." Jane switched into her organizing mode as she said briskly, "Mr. Finn, if you could set things up outside, I'll get some soup for Ben."

"Yes, ma'am." Finn nodded and went to work.

An hour later Ben was feeling almost pleasant, or at least numb, as he drowsed in the sun listening to Jane and Finn chat over the remnants of their meal at the picnic table. Finn had set up fresh sheets over a ground pad and sleeping bag, then brought out the pillows as Ben had slowly walked outside after yet another a trip to the bathroom. He dropped off to sleep after Jane coaxed him into having a little more of the chicken broth.

The sun was still bright when Ben awoke and languorously stretched. He looked around, disoriented for a moment at the unexpected setting, until he realized that he was back on the sofa and the sunlight was coming in through the window. He wondered where everyone was, but didn't have the energy to go searching. His thoughts meandered about, but eventually settled on the disconnect between where he went to sleep and this place where he woke up; he got a warm feeling inside as he realized that Finn must have carried him. It was a decidedly mixed warmth; embarrassment at being carried like a child, a tingle from the imagining of Finn's strong arms holding him, and chagrin that he had missed yet another close moment with his ranger.

"Looks like our boy is finally awake." Jane smiled cheerfully as she came in the room, closely followed by Finn. She came over to stand in front of the sofa. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty weak and still all-over achy, but my stomach is a lot better." Ben sat up. "Most of that pesky headache seems to be gone, although I can feel it lurking."

"You look better, too. Do you feel up to going home?"

"I suppose if I went very slow," Ben said doubtfully. He wasn't all that keen on leaving now that he was finally getting well enough to start appreciating Finn's presence, but had to admit to himself that it wasn't fair to expect Finn to continue caring for him. "Myrna can be a handful sometimes."

"Not a problem," said Finn. "We put some planks down and the motorcycle rolled up into the back of Jane's truck as nice as you please. I've got everything tied down very securely, so you can ride up front."

"In that case... sure, I can handle that."

"I took the liberty of raiding your room to bring you some fresh clothes." Jane put a small pile on the sofa next to Ben. "Your sneakers are here, and I've already got your old clothes out in the truck." She patted Ben's arm. "You just take your time. We'll be out on the porch when you're ready."

"Yes, ma'am. Thanks."

Ben waited until the other two were gone before standing up. He made a very slow trip around the room, trying to memorize the contents, touching the swords, sitting in the rocking chair for a few moments. Given Finn's seeming predilection for living outside, he didn't know if or when he might be invited back in and he wanted to savor this last moment. Finally he sighed, faced up to reality and took himself off to the bathroom to change into clean underwear, t-shirt, socks and sweatpants.

After he tied his shoelaces, Ben stood for a long moment with Finn's t-shirt in his hand, rubbing the faded logo. He licked his lips and stared at it.

"It did seem awfully small to fit him," Ben muttered to himself. "Maybe he won't miss it."

Acting swiftly before he could change his mind, Ben folded the t-shirt lengthwise and wrapped it around his lower belly. He pulled his boxer-briefs and sweatpants up over it to hide the fabric, then took Finn's cutoff sweats and two used towels, crumpled them together and left the pile on top of the toilet tank. He took a deep breath and went outside.

"She looks fine." Ben's first stop was to ensure that Myrna was well-secured, but Finn had done an excellent job. He went around the truck and stood by the passenger door as Jane got behind the wheel.

"Thanks for taking care of me. I was really a lot sicker than I thought at first."

"You're welcome, and don't be worrying about it." Finn shook the hand that Ben proffered, adding a squeeze to his shoulder. "You take care of yourself and finish getting better before you start working out again."

"Yes, sir. I will." Ben climbed into the truck and fastened his seat belt. "Thanks again," he called as Jane started to turn around. He waved as they departed, keeping the sight of Finn in the side mirror as long as he could, then settled in his seat for the short trip home.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§ Chapter Nineteen §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next few weeks were a busy blur as the weather cycled between hot and hotter. Ben had recovered quickly from his illness and plunged back into his myriad activities. The dirt bike sales at Midway had been picking up ever since a big joint advertising push with Ruger after the 4th of July festivities; combined with the usual summer rush there was plenty of work for all of the staff, permanent or temporary. Ben appreciated the money for the overtime, but on top of his work in the garden and UPA and his exercises, it seriously cut into his time for listening to his stash of recordings before falling into bed already half-asleep. His dreams seemed much more pleasant, though, as he clutched a certain t-shirt while he drifted off. Jane had put together a lovely farewell dinner for Tammy, and they had waved good-bye as she drove off to her new life, leaving only the threesome of Jane, Rafa and Ben in the big old house. They even had a small ceremony for Tiger the cat when his previous owner, a widow with four daughters, returned from a job in Europe and requested him back, much to the delight of both Tiger and the girls.

Ben had gotten his first call for the Emergency Volunteers, and Frank had released him from work to go out with the search teams that had been assembled to look for a lost camper. It proved to be a tedious six-hour hike through the woods in a long line of searchers, a hot, dirty walk with a hefty number of insects that evidently found Ben to be a tasty morsel. It was worth it, however, both for the satisfaction when one of the teams found the hiker and for the smile he got from Finn when he related his story.

There were three Tai Chi sessions and Ben felt he was making some good progress. There had been one incident, however, that he still found puzzling. About a week after he had gotten sick, Finn was sitting atop the table watching as Ben worked through part of the Square Form. When Ben realized he had not heard any comments or critiques for several minutes, he looked over and caught Finn staring at him, or he might have been staring past him into the trees, he wasn't sure which. Ben stopped uncertainly and asked if he was doing something wrong. He was flabbergasted when Finn came over to him and apologized for breaking one of his own rules in not properly concentrating during the session, dropped and did fifty quick pushups, bowed to him and then continued the session as if nothing had happened. Ben still shook his head whenever he thought about that.

One morning near the end of the third week of August Ben was in a particularly fine mood as he headed for another session with Finn. The day before had been wonderful: the latest check had put his bank account into the healthiest balance he had seen since he left home; he had managed to divest the garden of its latest crop of weeds without a single mistake; and there had been a lively session at UPA in the evening where Armand had praised his handling of the board. Myrna was in exceptional voice after a recent service Ben had managed to squeeze in and her full-throated rumble sang in his ears as he soared along the road.

After parking beside the old truck, Ben pulled off his riding gear, then decided it was hot enough to warrant taking off his sweat pants. In a light-weight sleeveless t-shirt and soft jersey shorts, Ben whistled as he went around the house. He grinned at the sight of Finn stretched out on the table soaking up some sun.

"You seem to be in remarkably good spirits this morning, Mr. Kennan," said Finn as he got up to walk toward their workout spot in the shade along the edge of the clearing.

"It is a magnificent morning, Mr. Finn." Ben did a little dance step of exuberance. "There's money in the bank, I'm getting the hang of this gardening thing, and we were rocking last night at UPA."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"And do you want to know what the best thing of all was yesterday?" Ben waggled his eyebrows and his grin got even wider.

"I don't think I could stop you from telling me," said Finn with an answering grin.

"Yesterday, this guy brought his Harley in." Ben sidled up next to Finn. "Same guy who came in back in April and was all pissy because the boss let 'some damned city kid' work on his precious bike. So yesterday he came in, and I saw him at the service desk when I went in to get some parts for the job I was working on, but he's been a regular for several years so I didn't think anything about it." Ben leaned in a little closer. "Anyway, the girl at the desk came back into the shop and called me over, said there's a customer out front asked for me by name. And when she told him I was already on a job, he said he would wait. It was kind of a tricky job and took me another thirty minutes, but when I finished the ticket, the girl asked me to come up front, and damned but if that guy wasn't still there and was the one who asked for me by name!" Ben pumped his arms. "Can you beat that! Said his bike has never run sweeter and he wanted only me to work on it!"

"That's great!" Finn added with a sly smile, "You're going to remind the boss about this next time you're up for a raise, right?"

Ben laughed, then gave a mock pout. "You don't ever let up, do you?"

"That's part of my job, boyo." Finn slapped him on the shoulder. "Seriously, though, you know you're doing good work when you've got your own regular customer. That's the kind of thing they tell other people about, and it gets around."

"I hope so. It's good for Midway, too, when we've got happy customers."

"That's a good attitude. Maybe we're going to mold you into a decent human being yet. Right now, though, we've got work that needs doing." Finn turned away to move to a shadier spot.

Ben stuck his tongue out at Finn's back as he followed him.

"Just for that, boy, you can do twenty pushups to get you warmed up." Finn kept looking straight ahead.

"Yes, sir, Mister No-Sense-of-Humor-Slave-Driver, sir."

"Fifty," said Finn without missing a beat.

Ben was in such a good mood that he pumped out the pushups and jumped up with a cheeky grin. "So when do we actually start working, sir?"

Finn just shook his head. "Get your arse in position and let's go," he growled, straightening his shoulders as his face changed to instructor mode. "I want to work on details of your moves today, Sidai."

"Yes, Sifu." Ben settled down, bowed, took a deep breath, and they moved together in their warm-up stretches.

After stretching, they reviewed the basic stances and the first several moves in the Square Form. Finn was quite serious when he said details, even down to moving Ben's fingers into the correct positions. Ben was still in an exquisite mood and started to allow himself to enjoy the feel of those large hands touching him, moving his legs, his arms, tilting his hips to just the proper angle. He was relaxing more than he realized, however, and his normal caution and focus began slipping away.

"Through here," Finn said, standing right behind Ben, a hand on each shoulder, "you're still lifting your shoulders too much." Finn exerted a gentle warm pressure. "Let them drop, let everything center."

"In this section, you should be able to feel it through your backbone." Finn's voice was in Ben's left ear, his body scant inches behind Ben's. One hand was on Ben's left shoulder.

Ben closed his eyes and reveled in the heat.

"Focus on this as I move my hand." Finn's right hand started just below Ben's neck, and slowly, so very slowly, pressed down, one vertebra at a time. "Let the energy flow down toward your center."

"Oh yes, I feel it." Ben felt himself floating, energy following the glide of that wonderful pressure. He pushed backward into it a little.

"Right here, where your spine curves, channel that energy."

The magic voice in Ben's ear was channeling energy, alright. "Mmmm, yes, it's flowing."

Just at the top of Ben's shorts the hand stopped and rested, pressing firmly. "Pull the energy here into your center, make it a part of you."

"Mmmhhmm," breathed Ben. He let his head fall back as he melted into a pool of warm happy slush. "Ohhh, yeah. Definitely feeling that."

"What?" Finn moved away, stepping around to face Ben.

"Huh?" Ben blinked, confused by the loss of that wonderful heat and the sharpness of Finn's tone.

"That's not exactly the center you're supposed to be working on, Sidai."

"What?" Ben said in turn. He looked down at where Finn was staring, and was horrified to realize that the loose shorts clearly revealed a very definite erection.

"I... uh..." Ben gasped for breath and words.

"Is that for my benefit, Mr. Kennan?" Finn was standing his ground, but there was clearly tension in his stance. "Are you one of those arse bandits?"

"A, a... what?" Ben managed to stammer out. Ice was shooting down his back and he tried to swallow. The traitorous erection was rapidly wilting.

"A homosexual, Mr. Kennan. Are you gay?" Finn's tone was flat and gray.

Ben felt like a rabbit caught in a gun sight. He couldn't read Finn's expression and stood helplessly shaking his head, his mouth open. Finn started to take a step backward, and Ben's terror at the prospect of being summarily dismissed loosened his tongue.

"Please, yes, it's true - but I never wanted to lie to you. It's just that I like you so much, and... and..."

Ben held out his hands, pleading. He could feel his legs shaking.

"For God's sake, please don't send me away... I swear I won't ever make a pass at you... please... just let me stay... I won't ever say anything... I'll do anything you want... please!"

"You're babbling, boy. Shut up and stop acting the bloody fool."

His entire body was trembling now and Ben was sucking desperately for breath. He was frozen in place as Finn warily moved closer and he could only whimper another broken "Please..."

Time slowed to a crawl as Ben watched Finn's left hand float through the air, not quite suspended, but moving in an infinitesimal forward motion. Every individual beat of his heart resounded with a heavy thud. A single breath traveled down his throat molecule by molecule. His mouth was dry, his tongue impossibly thick. Another beat, another thud.

Electric sparks raced through Ben's body as Finn's hand touched his cheek and began sliding toward the back of his head, brushing past his ear on the way. Ben's eyes were locked on deep blue eyes that pulled him in as they grew larger... larger... larger. The thudding of his heart picked up speed.

Time stopped altogether in an explosion of lightning as warm lips touched his. There was no other sound, no other light, only the feel of those wonderful lips and the heady musk of Quilan Finn in his nostrils. As the kiss went on, Ben felt his legs going and reached his left hand to Finn's shoulder to hold himself up. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

 

**_First Kiss_ **

 

Picture by Sue_Chose_This. Used by permission.

 

A blast of anguished loss shocked Ben's system as Finn stepped back. His heartbeat shot into overtime.

The two men stood staring at each other, eyes wide and mouths open as their chests heaved trying to take in oxygen. The heavy silence was broken only by the frantic wheezing.

"What..." Ben swallowed hard. "What just happened?"

"I'm not sure." Finn shook himself, his eyes still wide and nostrils flaring. "I think... I need to sit down."

Finn wandered aimlessly toward the shelter of the woods until he found a friendly tree to lean on. He turned and slid down against the trunk until he hit the ground. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, let his body sag, and began taking slow, deep breaths.

Ben stood uncertainly, his mind whirling. He still couldn't believe what had just taken place; it simply wasn't possible. He took several deep breaths of his own before he felt like could move again. He licked his lips, then walked tentatively to within a few feet of where the ranger was sitting.

"Quilan?"

Quilan Finn opened his eyes, looked up at Ben, sighed.

"Please... what's going on?" Ben swallowed again, tried to keep his hands still. "I don't understand." He shook his head. "I was absolutely certain that you were straight... but you just..."

There was silence again for a long moment until Finn finally spoke.

"I have always thought I was straight, too." A fleeting smile. "I tell you, though, Mr. Ben Kennan, there was something about you from the moment I first met you that night at UPA." He raised an eyebrow, angled his head. "I did not understand it then and I'm still not certain I understand it now." A rueful smile. "You, Mr. Kennan, have been the source of a lot of lost sleep and of more questions that I have had to ask myself than anything else that has happened to me since I left Ireland many years ago."

Finn stood up, squared his jaw, and stepped close to Ben. "I like you, Ben. I like you a lot. But just what is it you feel for me?"

Ben answered instantly, the words flowing from him without conscious thought or intent. "I love you." Ben stared steadily, his breathing shallow and face pale.

"You..." Finn stood speechless as he tried to digest the announcement. He blinked a few times, let out a whoosh of air. "I certainly wasn't expecting that."

Silence lingered again.

"So where do we go from here?" Ben asked softly, his lips pulled tight in an anxious line.

"I want to keep seeing you, and I want to see where this... relationship takes us." Finn smiled, a steady, confident smile. "There is something special going on here, even with all the differences between us. And I think it is worth pursuing this."

"You don't know how incredibly wonderful that sounds," Ben said as joy replaced his uncertainty. "This is a dream come true, all my best fantasies rolled into one." He laughed aloud, transported to a wondrous euphoria.

"Let's not go too fast," Finn cautioned. "I've still got a lot to learn about this business of being with a man." He shook his head. "I know I still like women, though. So what does that make me?"

"It makes you a human being... a person who has a big enough heart to see new possibilities."

"I like that." Finn nodded thoughtfully. "I can work with that."

Ben dropped to one knee, struck by a sudden inspiration. He looked up. "Quilan Finn, will you do me the honor of allowing me to court you?" His eyes were shining, a hopeful smile quivering.

For the second time in as many minutes, Finn was struck speechless. He reached down with one hand and drew Ben to his feet, then pulled him into a hug.

"Yes," he whispered.

**************** ***************

By mutual consent, the session had been forgotten and the two men had settled in the familiar confines of the picnic table to sip water and thrash out this new twist in their friendship.

"We need to discuss some practicalities," said Finn. He was leaning forward, elbows on the table, hands clasped.

"That sounds like a good idea." Ben took a long drink of water, then set the bottle aside.

"May I safely assume that you want to continue your Tai Chi lessons?"

"Absolutely. When I first met you, I would have been willing to do anything to see more of you, and I wanted desperately to get you to be my friend." Ben paused for a moment, cleared his throat. "When you kicked me into working on figuring out what I was going to do with my life, and then agreed to teach me Tai Chi... that was real, and I am immensely grateful for the help you have been giving me."

"I think that was part of what fascinated me about you. Not very many people would have been willing to swallow the kind of pride you have and ask for help to try to make something better of themselves."

"It's not been easy," Ben said as he ducked his head with a small grimace. He looked up again as he continued, "I admired you, and I wanted to be more like you."

Finn smiled and gave a little snort.

"What?" Ben raised an eyebrow.

"In some ways, this seems such a bizarre conversation to be having. That was quite the romantic gesture you made, asking to court me, but I have no idea what you actually mean to do."

"I have to admit that was an impulse," Ben confessed. "But I am willing to do whatever you need or want."

"The main thing I need is time... my heart seems to think it knows what it's wanting, but I need time to sort things out in my incredibly confused head."

"I've waited this long, thinking it was a hopeless cause." Ben smiled gently. "I can wait however long it takes now that I know there is hope. I'll try not to push too fast. Anytime you need me to back off, just say the word."

"Fair enough. In this situation, you will have to be the teacher and I the student."

"Well, they say that learning is a lifelong endeavor," said Ben with a wry smile.

"I would say that 'they' are very wise." Finn hesitated a moment, his gaze flicking down to the table and back up. "May I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course."

"Have you always been gay?"

"Pretty much. I've always liked girls well enough as friends, but when I was growing up I began to realize that I was sexually attracted to boys. It was another reason I turned away from the church." Ben shrugged. "It was not a very welcoming place if you were different, at least not where I grew up."

"I know what you mean. I remember the sermons from my early days."

"Ummm...." Ben laid a hand flat on the table and rubbed it in little circles as he stared down. Familiar heat pinked his neck and cheeks as he worked up the nerve to speak. "I don't want you to have any false expectations, so I have to tell you... it's not like I've had huge amounts of experience... aside from some experimenting in boarding school with a few of the other boys, I've only had two relatively serious boyfriends." He looked up and added, "I just thought you should know."

"I thank you for that information. That's not an easy topic to discuss." Finn smiled. "As I said earlier, I like women, they seem to like me and I've definitely had my share of female friends. But your two boyfriends are two more than I ever even thought about having."

"It's hard not to notice how much women like you." A tinge of bitterness colored Ben's voice.

"Does that still bother you?"

"It bothered me tremendously when I first met you; it was a big part of what made me act so stupidly about Rebecca Barklay. Jealousy is definitely something I'm going to have to keep working on." Ben toyed with the water bottle, took a sip. He cleared his throat and smiled shyly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Certainly."

"May I call you Qui?"

"When we are in session, it is still Sifu and Sidai, other than that you can call me anything you like. I should warn you my tolerance for high saccharine levels is not all that great, though, so you might want to avoid things like 'pooky snookums' and baby talk." He reached across the table to put his hand on top of Ben's.

Ben grinned. "I've kind of gotten in the habit of using 'sir', but it's nice to know I don't have to." Ben turned his hand up to gently hold the paw that was Quilan Finn's appendage. His smile flitted away as another question occurred to him. "You know, this is a tremendously personal kind of situation. Is this something you'd be talking to other people about?" he asked quietly.

"I don't think I've had the chance to think things through that far. You believe that's a big problem?"

Ben's jaw tightened, as did his grip on Qui's hand. "I know it's certainly a potential problem." He looked straight into Qui's eyes. "You remember the vandalism at the UPA office?"

Qui nodded.

"That's just one example of the kind of prejudice and hatred you can run into and that I have seen for myself in a lot of places. It's one reason I was so upset at the time; I had hoped this place was going to be different and I wouldn't have to deal with that sort of nastiness." Ben squeezed Qui's hand again as he sighed pensively. "Much as I might desire things to be otherwise, until you are absolutely certain you want to be my lover, I have to tell you it's not a good idea to mention it to other people. Observing it second-hand just isn't the same thing as having the venom directed at you personally."

"I see. I take it you are not 'out of the closet', as they say?"

"There are only a few people who know. My sister does." Ben chewed a bit at the corner of his lower lip, then a tiny smile curled his lips. “And now does Jane as well. She figured it out, plus the fact that I love you, on her own. Around here the only others are two of Jane's friends who are lesbian lovers; she introduced me to them after she got me to admit it to her. They're nice people. But to answer your question, no, I'm not publicly out."

"Your landlady seems to be a very formidable woman."

"She is. I'd hate to ever get on her bad side."

Finn smiled a moment at that, but the light in his eyes was dark. "I appreciate your honesty and your concerns. I too have seen bigotry and prejudice first-hand. My mother was American, but she married an Irishman and I grew up Catholic from the age of two in Northern Ireland. I know all too well what it's like when people label each other and then can't see past those labels."

"I'm sorry. That must have been rough."

"Agh, 'tis all in the past. I have to agree with you, though, it's better to keep this between the three of us for a while."

"Three of us?"

"You don't seriously think you'll be able to keep something like this a secret from the omniscient Jane Brandon, do you?"

Ben laughed, his heart lighter and more carefree than it had been for many a month.

**************** ***************

Qui and Ben had not been able to talk for much longer as Qui regretfully announced that he had promised Joan Spangler he would come out to the Wildlife Conservation Center to help with some new arrivals. He had walked Ben around to his motorcycle, then had hesitantly asked if he could try another kiss.

There was an almost comical teenage awkwardness as they both tried to lead at the same time, arms and noses bumping. Qui laughed, put one hand firmly around Ben's head and growled playfully, "Stand still, dammit." Ben put his arms around Qui's waist and pulled him closer as their lips touched chastely. They held the kiss for a long moment until Qui leaned back, his breathing fast and hard.

"That was nice, even if I do feel like a silly young lad on his first date."

"It is a first time for you, my studly one." Ben batted his eyelashes coyly to help break the tension.

"Jaysus, I can tell I'm going to need plenty of help from the saints to deal with you." Qui shook his head, then grinned mischievously. "At least I won't have to worry about whether I can still manage to take a bra off with one hand."

Ben almost choked on his laugh and the implied promise in those words. He leaned against the solid warmth of Qui's chest, allowing himself the luxury of absorbing the vibrations of their shared laughter. He felt he could have stayed in that shelter forever, but far too quickly for his liking, Qui gently released him with a murmured reminder of other obligations.

"I'll see you in a few days, I guess." Ben sat on Myrna, hoping that Qui might ask him back sooner.

"I'm booked up pretty solidly until then, aye." Qui put a hand on Ben's shoulder. "However things develop between us, we both still have lives to lead and commitments to fulfill. Balance in life is one of the things we both need to remember, no matter how exciting it might be to explore this new part of our lives." One corner of his mouth twitched. "Besides, I need some time to talk with Manus and start getting my head wrapped around this new notion."

"Yes, sir. I understand. Patience and perseverance in all things." Ben smiled wryly as he repeated Qui's mantra.

"That's my boyo." Qui slapped Ben's shoulder. "Be off with you now."

Ben was still tingling inside when he reached home. He felt he would burst if he could not share the news with someone, and was disappointed when he saw that Rafa's car was there. He put Myrna away, taking a moment to pat her affectionately and assure her that he still cared for her very much, then waltzed into the kitchen.

"Hey, I'm home." Ben looked around, but Jane was the only person in the kitchen, mixing a batter. "Is Rafa around? I saw her car out front."

"She took Cel out for some exercise," Jane replied absently as she measured out ingredients and added them to the bowl. "Said she'd be back in a couple of hours. Should I let her know you were looking for her?"

"No, ma'am, that's fine. It was you I wanted to talk to, actually." Ben tried and utterly failed to look casual.

"Let me put this into pans, and –" Jane turned her head, then turned all the way around. "Why, Ben Kennan, what's gotten into you? You're practically dancing out of your shoes, and if you grin any wider you're going to break your face in two."

"I'm in love, and life is wonderful." Ben couldn't resist any longer, and swept Jane around the kitchen in a bear hug.

"Lordy, boy, do put me down," Jane laughed. "I'm too old for such silliness. Now what's all this about?"

"Quilan Finn! He's straight, but he's not really, or at least he's willing to not be, and he likes me, and he wants to be better friends, and –

"Shush!" Jane put a hand over Ben's mouth as she shook her head, but her smile was almost as broad as his. "Calm down, and tell me what's going on?"

Ben took a deep breath before speaking. "Quilan Finn kissed me today."

"No! You don't say!"

"Yes, ma'am. He kissed me. Twice! He wants me to come back and see him some more, and not just for Tai Chi."

"Why, Ben, that is marvelous!" Jane wrapped Ben in a hug of her own.

"It's fantastic," Ben burbled. "So totally unexpected, and the feeling was just absolutely incredible."

"You must tell me everything. Sit down a moment, let me get those cakes in the oven, and we can talk."

For the next hour Jane fed him fresh cookies and milk while Ben's excitement filled the air. Occasionally, Ben would have to get up and walk about, so great was his enthusiasm. He did skip over a few of the more embarrassing details of his lapse during the Tai Chi session, although from the heat in his face and Jane's carefully moderated expression he knew she had an excellent idea of what had really happened. She was genuinely happy for him, and encouraged him to talk himself out until he had calmed down enough to sit and chat relatively quietly.

"That's about all, I guess. I know we need to take our time and not push things. It's a huge change for him to deal with, but he wants to go ahead." Ben shook his head. "I'm still having trouble believing this isn't a dream."

"He's quite a man, and I hope it works out for both of you."

"I don't even have words any more to describe how extraordinary he is, and what this means to me." Ben drained the last of the milk in his glass and set it down. "Of course, he's the practical one, as always, and reminded me we still need to deal with the other aspects of our lives."

"He's got a good point," Jane agreed. "Have to pay the bills and take care of your obligations to other folks."

"I understand, and I will." Ben reached across the table to hold Jane's hand. "And I won't forget how good you've been to me, either. You can count on that."

"Well, you've been a big help to me and I appreciate having you around. And if things don't always run smooth, I'll be here."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You need to call your sister and tell her, too. If you like, after supper you can take the phone from the living room down to your bedroom and plug it in there so you can have a little privacy."

"Thanks, that's very nice of you."

"Speaking of supper, I need to get cracking on that. Do you think you could manage to get some fresh lettuce and such for a salad out of the garden by yourself?"

"I'll certainly give it my best shot." Ben grinned and headed outdoors.

Later that evening, Ben took advantage of the phone offer and called Maureen from his room, still too excited to settle for a simple email announcement. After an anxious moment when there was no answer, he left a message and paced for several minutes, occasionally stopping to hug himself. When Maureen called back and Ben broke the news, there was a shout of happiness that could have been heard across three states without the phone, and they spent an hour joyfully sharing the exhilaration.


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Three Chapters Twenty through Twenty-Eight, reference notes and end piece  
> See notes at beginning of story

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§   Chapter Twenty   §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
The next session at Finn's house a few days later was in the morning and started out very much as usual.  The ranger was all business when it came to the Tai Chi workout and would not allow any distractions.  After the final bow, however, there was a long awkward silence as they looked at each other, not quite sure what to do.

"No second thoughts, I hope?" asked Ben cautiously, mindful of his promise not to push.

"No, no second thoughts."  Qui gave a self-deprecating laugh.  "I know how I would be proceeding if you were a woman, but I'm feeling rather insecure about my instincts when it comes to you."

"Ah, I could see where that might be a problem."  Ben rolled his lower lip between his teeth for a moment.  "Men tend to be simpler than women from everything I've heard and seen."  He grinned, an impudent cheeky offering, trying to keep things light and hoping it wouldn't be taken the wrong way.  "I wouldn't mind at all if you just wanted to go straight to bed."

"Definitely too fast," Qui said firmly.  "I like foreplay, lots of it, and learning about a person, and how to be close to someone, before we talk about any of those other gymnastics."

"Sorry, just trying to be helpful."  Ben put on an innocently puzzled expression.  "What's foreplay?"

"Jaysus."  Qui rolled his eyes and sighed gustily.  "This is going to take a lot longer than I thought."

"I actually did have a valid idea in there somewhere."  Ben shrugged.  "Young guys especially are damned horny, and a lot of times it really was pretty much along the lines of 'Hi, how ya doing?  Doing fine.  You wanna?  Yeah, let's do it.'  You know, short and to the point."

"I'll keep that sage advice in mind," said Qui dryly, "and see if we can't get you to develop a slightly longer attention span."

"Hey, foreplay sounds good," Ben said hastily.  "I want to learn what you like, too."

"We'll work on it.  Come on, we need to finish your notes from the session, then we can talk."

They spent ten minutes discussing what had gone well and what Ben should continue to work on.  Qui asked about Ben's journal, and Ben had to admit he had been too distracted recently to make any entries.

"I suppose we can give you a pass under the circumstances, but you shouldn't let it slide too long."

"Yes, sir."  Ben let a small half-grin slip out.

"Let's go sit in the shade."

Ben trailed Qui, water bottle in hand.  He waited until Qui had selected a tree and sat down at its base, legs straight out, and patted the ground beside him, nodding for Ben to join him.

"Damned tree roots and hard ground," Ben grumbled sotto voce as he tried to find a comfortable position for his rear, setting the bottle off to the side.

"Heard that."  Qui pulled Ben into his side, his arm around Ben's shoulders.  "Just remember - love me, love my trees."

Ben mumbled an inarticulate mock complaint as he happily snuggled closer, smiling at the rumbling laugh he felt through the close contact.

"When do you have to be at work today?"

"By ten."

"We've got a little time then."

There was silence for several minutes.

Ben stirred.  "Was there anything in particular you wanted to discuss?"

"Not really.  Today I just want to feel what it's like to have you by my side."

"Oh.  Alright."

Another very long silence.

"This is nice... being next to you, I mean," Ben ventured.  "You're warm... sort of a solid, comforting feeling."

"It's one of the best parts of taking things slowly."  Qui rubbed Ben's shoulder.

"I could get to really like this," purred Ben.

"That's good, because I already do."

"Mmmmhmh."

Another silence.

"Did you have your talk with Manus?"

An exasperated sigh.  "Have you never heard of a concept called 'enjoying the moment', or do you always have to be talking?"

"Sorry.  It just seems strange to sit around not doing or saying anything."

"But we are doing something.  We are learning about each other."

"Oh."  Ben turned his head to try to look up at Qui.

"And yes, I did talk to Manus.  He approves."

"That's nice."  Ben squirmed around, trying to get more comfortable.  "Otherwise I might have to have a little talk with him myself."

"Something wrong?"  Qui raised an eyebrow.

"The ground is hard and my butt's getting numb."

"Your sorry arse is going to have to develop a longer attention span too," growled Qui.

That struck Ben as incredibly hilarious, so he laughed, a laugh which turned into a guffaw.  The next thing he knew he was stretched out flat on his back with Qui on his knees beside him, one hand holding Ben down, staring up at the incipient grin twitching on Qui's lips.

"Are we still learning?"  Ben managed to tone his mirth down to a mere smirk.  "Or can we do something more interactive?"

"Be careful what you wish for."

With a gleam in his eye, Qui captured both of Ben's hands and held them down beside his head.  Slowly he lowered his own head until their mouths barely touched.  He gently kissed first Ben's upper lip, then sucked softly on his lower lip, alternating between the two.

Ben strained upward trying to capture more of that heavenly treasure, frustrated by his inability to break the grip holding him in place.  The more he reached, the further Qui retreated, staying tantalizingly close as he began fluttering barely there kisses along the side of Ben's face.  Without warning Qui suddenly slipped down and probed Ben's ear with his tongue.

"Jesus!" gasped Ben as he bucked his hips.

"That interactive enough for you, boy?" whispered Qui.  He lapped the ear again as Ben squirmed.

"Damn you," barked Ben, "get down here and I'll show you fucking interactive."

Qui let go of Ben's hands and slid down sideways, holding him close as he leaned in for a serious kiss.

Ben wrapped his arms around Qui, pushing back, trying to deepen that sweet pressure.  He prodded persistently with his tongue, trying to force an entrance, his efforts eventually rewarded with a fervor that dragged him into its intensity.  Ben gave himself over to the ravenous bliss of hot wet tongues twisting around each other in slithery abandon.  He moaned into that scalding frenzy, feeling an answering echo in the breast bearing down on his.  Reluctantly, he felt the cool air that announced the withdrawal of that hungry mouth, although he was grateful for the opportunity to draw in welcome air.

Qui leaned on one elbow, his own chest heaving, his other hand resting on Ben's cheek.

"Sorry.  I didn't mean to get so carried away like that," murmured Qui contritely.  "Are you alright?"

"You can carry me away any time you want."  Ben could still feel sparks tingling down to his gut from the taste lingering in his mouth.  He licked his lips.  "I'm not one of your frail little lassies, Mr. Finn.  I like it strong, so I know you're really there."

"Another learning point in my education."  Finn had a lopsided smile as he rubbed a thumb along Ben's cheekbone.  "You are an amazing temptation, Mr. Kennan."

Ben looked up into the smoky blue eyes and had to fight the urge to submerge himself.  He caught Qui's wrist and turned it so he could see the face of the watch on it.

"Damn."  Ben twisted his head away.  "I've got to leave now if I'm going to have time to get cleaned up before work."

"A pity."  Qui rose to his feet, then gave Ben a hand up.  They walked silently back to Myrna.

"Tuesday morning?"  Ben asked as he sat astride his motorcycle, helmet in one hand.  "That's my day off."  He let the words drift in the warm air.

"We'll see how things go."  Qui leaned in for a quick kiss.  "Take care."

As he started down the drive, Ben waved, well-satisfied with the progress of his courtship, but wondering how he was going to endure the next four days.

****************  ***************

There was no point in trying to call and chat on the phone because Qui seemed to have rotating hours and was often out of the house even when he wasn't working.  In any event, Ben didn't want to seem like a love-struck teenager with no self-control, so he was forced to find other ways to occupy his time.  As was his wont, hard work became Ben's panacea for loneliness over the long days.  He volunteered for extra tasks at Midway and UPA, ran longer and exercised harder, and forced himself to sit down with his journal to begin putting down thoughts and impressions about his early childhood and his memories of his father.  His reward for himself at the end of each evening was to run the DVD of Qui and practice his forms along with the recording, then slip into bed with the filched t-shirt for slumber.  Even so, Tuesday seemed to take forever to arrive.

Ben woke early despite it being his day off, and decided to go for a run while it was cool.  As he trotted back up the drive afterward, he passed Rafa and Celesta going out for a ride; they smiled and waved to each other.  There was a large black four-wheel drive pickup truck with stake sides parked in front of the house.  Ben glanced at it as he reached the front door and went in, wondering who owned it.  That question was answered in a few seconds when he stopped in the kitchen.  An older, heavy-set man sat at the table with Jane, sipping coffee as they made notes on a sheet of paper.  Ben smiled politely and nodded as he got himself a glass of water and took a long drink.

"I think that wraps it up," said the man.  "Deal?"

"Deal," Jane answered as they both stood and shook hands.  Jane accompanied the visitor out to the front door, then returned with a satisfied smile.

"You look like you just got the best part of that trade," chaffed Ben as he sat at the table sipping more water.

"It was a fair trade, the best kind," Jane said as she gathered the used cup and put it in the sink, then poured herself another and sat down.  "Morgan Granger has a place a ways down the road, and every year we get together for our fall dealing.  He provides half a beef, cut and wrapped, and this year I'll give him a couple of bushels of vegetables from the garden, six customized sweaters, baby clothes for his new granddaughter and six of my special pies for Thanksgiving and Christmas.  The beef will go into that big freezer out in the garage along with the pork from Vinny Tenado and the extra vegetables that I don't can."

Ben shook his head.  "And here I was just thinking that you were talking about letting the extra room, although I have to admit he didn't seem the type to be looking to board."

"Won't need to let the room," said Jane, "that's taken care of."

"You already have a new boarder?  Who is it?"

"I reckon nobody thought to mention it to you," Jane said casually.  "With school starting next week and all, Rafa asked to take both rooms, seeing as they're connected with the bathroom and nice and private.  She wanted to set up a study and sitting room so I gave her a discount for a two year agreement and helping out with the animal boarding."

"No, I didn't know."  Ben was little miffed, even though he knew it wasn't really any of his business.

"She didn't want a big deal made about it."  Jane looked shrewdly at Ben.  "Rafa might be quiet, but she's also darned bright.  She cottoned on to you being sensitive about money, and didn't want you feeling put out now that the family ranch has been sold so she's got all that set aside on top of the insurance."

Ben ducked his head in embarrassment, because that was exactly where his thoughts had been heading.  "Sounds like she is wiser than me.  Guess I still have a lot of work to do on that sort of thing," he sighed.  "I don't envy how she got the money, though."

"We all have our little demons to sort out."  Jane finished her coffee and stood up.  "You still going over to Quilan Finn's this morning?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'll be leaving shortly."

And it was indeed a short time later that Ben pulled up at the familiar setting.  He smiled as he carefully unstrapped a box from Myrna and carried it around the corner of the house.

"Hey, good morning."

Qui looked up from a sheaf of papers next to a couple of hardcover books.  "Good morning.  What's that?"

Ben set the box down on the table.  "I brought you a present," he said.  "I hope you like it."

"You don't have to do things like that."

"I wanted to."  Ben shrugged.  "It only cost me a little extra work, and it seemed like the least I could do after all the help you've been giving me."

"Let's take a look then."  Finn loosened the single green ribbon, let it fall, then opened the flaps of the box.  He reached inside and pulled out a fat red tomato.  "What's this?  Vegetables?"  He peered in, a puzzled smile on his face.

"It seemed like something you might appreciate," said Ben.  "The first plantings in the garden have been ripening now, so Jane helped me pick a few things out."

"That is a very thoughtful gesture, from both of you.  Thank you."  Qui set his glasses atop the papers, stood up and hugged Ben, kissed his nose, then nuzzled his ear.  "That doesn't mean you have to work any less hard, of course," he whispered.

"Damn, you saw through my little ploy," Ben whispered back as he nipped Qui's ear.  "You are too smart for me to get around."

"Flattery will get you a buss."  Suiting action to words, Qui wrapped a hand around the back of Ben's head and gave him a long kiss.  Afterward, he ran his fingers through Ben's hair, then stepped back.  "Now, time to be getting to work."

"Yes, sir."  Ben grinned as they headed over to start the morning session.

The session went smoothly and afterward, the two men returned to the table.  Qui brought out a large jug of iced tea instead of water.

"Thought it would be nice to have something different today."

"It's good, thanks."  Ben took another drink from his mug as they went over the notes of the session.

"You're coming along faster than I had thought.  The first six movements were excellent, but we want to keep working on how you're shifting your weight and balancing during the rest."

"It's feeling better, a little more automatic when I stop thinking so hard about some of the details.  I've been watching the DVD you made and practicing along with it.  I've found it very helpful."

"If that works for you, then perhaps after a few more sessions we could start doing the square form together."

"Wicked pisser!" exclaimed Ben as a big smile spread across his face.  "I'd really like that."

"Might help with your timing, as well as giving you a goal to work toward.  I'm looking forward to it myself; it's been a while since I've partnered with anybody," Finn said with an answering smile.  "How's your journal coming along?"

"I've been working on that, too."  Ben paused thoughtfully.  "It was difficult initially, trying to think back to what I first remembered and be objective about it.  What I've found so far is that when I was very young I loved my father a great deal, I respected him and I wanted very much to earn his love and respect back."  He shook his head sadly.  "Trying to sort out where things went from there... that's going to be even harder."

"That's a good start, Ben.  You can take it a step at a time, just like the other work we're doing.  After all –"

"Patience and perseverance, yes, sir."  Ben looked skyward.  "I ought to have that tattooed inside my head so you just push the button and the words come out."

"Tsk, tsk, such an attitude, boyo.  I should make you do pushups while you recite them."

Ben wrinkled his nose to express his thoughts about that idea, which only made Qui laugh.

"Despite your sorry, disrespectful attitude, you have earned a reward for doing so well today."  Qui reached under the table and pulled out a sleeping pad.  "Your poor little tender arse won't have to sit on the hard ground today."  He stood up and drained his mug of iced tea, then gathered pad, books, papers and glasses.  "Come over in the shade with me, boyo."  He started walking toward the trees.

"You know, there are much softer places we could sit," Ben complained.

"We have to be taking advantage of this nice weather while we can," Qui retorted.  "It's still warm this early in September, but it gets cool in October.  We've had snow in October and November fairly often.  There'll be plenty of time later to stay inside."

"Yes, sir."

They settled under the largest of the trees, simply talking and occasionally kissing.  Ben enjoyed the way that Qui embraced him, ran his hands over Ben's face and hair, rubbed his back and shoulders and began expanding his kisses to include Ben's face, ears and neck.  He happily reciprocated but sometimes had to remind himself not to be too aggressive, remembering that his last attempt to force his tongue into Qui's mouth had resulted in a reaction which Qui had seemed to regret at the time.

"'Tis a lovely way to spend such a fine morning," sighed Qui as he leaned back against the tree, one hand fondling the back of Ben's neck.  "I should be getting on with some work, though."

"I thought you didn't have to go in until this afternoon," Ben murmured as he turned his head to kiss the palm of that large hand.

"That work, yes.  We've got some leads in a rash of thefts and we'll be staking out a couple of likely places this evening."  Qui shrugged and nodded toward the neglected books and papers.  "I've been talking to Sandy about a new project at UPA.  They want to do readings of sets of children's stories or fairy tales, so I said I would work up a set of Irish ones for them to vet.  I need to do some first readings to see how some of them sound and I'm behind schedule."

"I'd love to listen while you read, maybe give you a little feedback."  Ben hoped he didn't sound too needy, as that was his vision of a perfect way to spend time if he couldn't be doing more physical activities.  He couldn't help thinking how nice it would be to listen to the real thing instead of his tapes.

"That's probably not a good idea.  They usually sound pretty crap the first several times through," Qui's lips were pursed as he shook his head, "and I don't really like to have an audience until a reading is in decent shape."

"Have we found a kink in our shining knight's perfectionist armor?" asked Ben playfully as he poked a finger in Qui's ribs.

Qui scowled.  "At any rate, you'd get bored and start talking, and that would just put me off."

"I wouldn't be bored.  I like reading, and this is just like reading except you're doing all the work."  Ben was trying to turn on the charm, but it didn't seem to be very effective.

"I don't know..."

"Qui, if this is going to be successful for us, we need to see some of each other's warts, to share things even if you think they're not perfect.  I know I don't stay on my best company behavior all the time, and I wouldn't expect you to either."

There was a silence as Ben reached for the hand that had stilled on his shoulder and held it to his face.

"I promise I'll be quiet if that's what you need.  I'm not trying to interfere with your life, but I want to be close to you, to touch you."  Ben shook his head.  "I'm finding it's like hugs; I never got them much at home, but now that I've found people who like to hug, it is becoming quite addictive."

"You've got a good point."  Qui nodded slowly, arching an eyebrow.  "Perhaps I have been living alone for too much of my life and not letting others in enough.  I suppose that might be one of the reasons why things never worked out with any of the women."  He looked at Ben, a lopsided smile on his face as he pulled Ben close for a hug.  "Alright, we'll give it a try."  He squeezed a little harder.  "But if I hear any snickering or rude noises, your arse is out of here."

Ben was tempted to come back with a snarky query about snoring, but decided he was better off with a mild, "Yes, sir, you've got a deal."

Qui narrowed his eyes as if he had an excellent idea of what Ben had wanted to say, but in turn only said, "Get yourself settled then."

They rearranged themselves to get comfortable.  Qui put on his glasses and bent his right knee to prop up his reading material.  When Ben stretched out perpendicular to him on his back with his head on Qui's left thigh, Qui rested his free hand on Ben's chest, a pen loosely held.

For the next hour Ben listened contentedly as Qui tried out various stories, reading them different ways, making notes, going back and forth between the books and his papers.  Occasionally, Ben would carefully shift his position, but Qui just went on working, sometimes absent-mindedly fondling Ben's head or shoulder.

"I think perhaps I'll put in some of the five minute stories and see if Sandy wants to use them," Qui muttered as he leafed through some printouts.

"May I ask what those are?"  Since Qui's words had seemed to be thrown out somewhat in his direction, Ben finally ventured a comment.

"Those are short little bits, often with a point or moral to them, that you can tell when you don't have much time or you're passing stories around at a gathering.  Here's a brief example."  Qui picked up a sheet of paper and began reading.

"There was a fox that had three young ones, and when the time came to teach them how to fend for themselves, the old fox took them to a house.  There was great talk going on inside the house.  He asked the first two young ones if they could tell him who was in the house.  They couldn't. Then he tried the third. 'Who is inside?' asked the old fox. 'Either two women or twelve men,' said the young one. 'You'll do well in the world,' said the old fox."

"That's cute," said Ben.  "I noticed that almost all of the other stories seemed to have some sort of moral to them."

"Most children's stories are for teaching as well as entertainment if you really look at them closely, although sometimes the teaching point can be quite obscure."  Qui picked up another page.  "Let me get through a few more and I'll call it quits for now."

Qui toiled for another fifteen minutes before putting books and papers aside.  He pulled off his glasses and set them on the books, then stretched.  Ben took advantage of the break to stretch as well.

"I see you're still awake."  Qui looked down at Ben with an amused smile.

"I enjoyed myself.  I liked to hear the way you played with some of those stories, trying different ways to interpret them," Ben said as he leaned up on one elbow.  "Did it bother you that I was here?"

"Not once I got going."  Qui smiled wryly.  "I've been told I have quite a remarkable ability to focus on one thing to the exclusion of all else, and it wasn't always meant in a good way."

"From what I've seen of you at UPA, I'd have to agree with the focusing part.  It is pretty amazing to see you in action."

Qui stretched out and swung round to lie side-by-side facing Ben, grabbing him for a big kiss.  "You like that action better?"

"Mmhhphmm."  Ben couldn't get anything else out between trying to laugh and Qui's continued smooches.  He held on to whatever piece of Qui was convenient and tried to return kisses as Qui began nibbling and licking Ben's left ear and neck.

"Of course, the work at UPA has its own attractions," murmured Qui as he switched to Ben's right ear.

"They do good things."  Ben ran his hands across the width of Qui's broad shoulders and kissed his neck.

Qui worked his way back along the edge of Ben's jawline as he coasted fingertips down his spine.

"Working with Sandy is fun.  She has a lot of interesting ideas for new projects."

"Right.  She keeps things moving."  Ben was far more interested in the tingling that was being generated as Qui sucked on the vein at the base of his neck.  He let his head roll back to provide better access for Qui to explore beneath the edge of his t-shirt.

"She did mention something when I was there yesterday that I found a little curious."  Qui nibbled at the juncture of Ben's neck and collar bone.

"What's that?" asked Ben absently.

Qui raised his head a little, turned so his mouth was near Ben's ear.

"Why does Sandy call you 'Mister PSA Man'?"

Ben stiffened and jerked away.  He didn't need the heat shooting up the back of his neck to know that his face was bright red.

"Uuuughghgh..." Ben gurgled.  He rolled away a few feet before sitting up, his back rigid.  He looked around, anywhere but at his companion.

"I take it I hit some sort of nerve?"  Qui had shifted to his belly, propped up on both elbows.  He arched his eyebrows.

"What..."  Ben swallowed.  "What did she actually say?"

"We were talking about how well the archiving project this summer had gone, and how easy it was now to find files.  She mentioned that one example was being able to pull together Public Service Announcements for you to listen to when you first visited the program.  It was just in passing that she said she thought of you as Mister PSA Man, since so few people were usually interested in that sort of thing."  Qui shrugged.  "It just seemed very odd."  He tilted his head, waved vaguely with one hand.  "Is this something I should not have asked about?"

Ben buried his face in his hands, moaned and rocked a little.  "Shit, this is so fucking embarrassing," he mumbled.

"You don't have to talk about it."  Qui sat up.  "It was just a fleeting curiosity."

"No."  Ben raised his head and sighed.  "I'm the one who insisted we need to know more about each other."  He gave a rueful snort.  "Hoist with my own petard."  Ben looked at Qui.  "Promise you won't laugh?"

Qui nodded.  "No laughing."

"Alright."  Ben leaned back on both arms as he gathered his thoughts.  He took a deep breath before he began speaking.  "I hadn't been in town very long.  It was a Saturday night; I was down in my room, tired and feeling lonely."  Ben paused as he thought back to that miserable evening.  "I happened to turn on the radio and heard you doing a music show on UPA.  I was captivated by your voice."  He bowed his head.  "It probably sounds pretty silly.  I had no idea who you were, but I felt this sort of connection.  I tried to find more recordings you had done at the library, but had no luck.  I found out about UPA and went out to the office."  Ben glanced up at Qui.  "That's where I met Sandy for the first time.  I said I was interested in the program, and that I wanted to find out if there were tapes by you in particular.  She was suspicious, of course."  Ben felt his face reddening again and stopped.

"Sandy is zealous about the rules on staff privacy, so I can imagine what she was probably thinking," said Qui quietly.

"I didn't want her throwing me out, so I had to think of something outrageous," Ben admitted, biting his lip for a moment.  "I told her I wanted a tape of you doing PSAs so I could masturbate to it."

"Indeed."  Qui merely quirked an eyebrow.  "What did Sandy do?"

"She laughed so hard she had tears coming down.  She did have Tommy put together a tape of your old PSAs for me, but was adamant about not telling me anything about you.  Sandy offered to think about it if I would help with a fundraiser.  I showed up the next weekend, she worked my tail off for two days, then later called me to let me know I could come to the studio when you were doing your next reading of new PSAs."  Ben rubbed the back of his neck.  "The ironic thing is that what I told her was true."

"I suppose that would explain why you wanted me to read to you when you offered to work on my truck."

"Yes, sir.  I wanted to try to get to know you, to see more of you.  Your voice was like magic... I was hooked and had to have more."  Ben sat up straight, his hands clenched on his thighs, swallowed hard to make it to his next words.  "I got all the recordings of you I could lay my hands on and I listened to them, sometimes too much, until I learned to get some control of my feelings."  His voice dropped and he stared down at the grass.  "I still listen to some of them at night, especially when I haven't been able to see you.  I hope you don't think I'm too weird or some kind of a pervert, but for a long time it was all I had to keep me going, especially after I met you at UPA and it seemed so obvious that you were straight."  Ben's voice caught and he fell silent, his breath hitching as he waited for Qui's reaction.

There was a long silence.  Ben chanced a glimpse of Qui's face; he couldn't tell from the withdrawn expression what was going through his ranger's head and chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously.

Eventually, Finn focused his gaze on Ben.  His eyes crinkled and a corner of his mouth twitched upward.  He got to his hands and knees and slowly came over to Ben, gathered him in his arms and gently laid him down on the ground, holding him tight.

Ben closed his eyes as he settled into the comforting embrace, his own arms wrapped around his ranger.

"A few months ago, I would have thought your behavior was very strange, and that you were perhaps somebody I should be staying as far away from as possible," Qui said softly.  "Even now, I'm still coming to terms with the feelings I have for you, but I can understand some of what you must have felt."  He tucked Ben's head under his chin.  "You've certainly been in my thoughts more and more as I've come to know you better, and I imagine if I'd had pictures or tapes of you, I probably would have spent time looking or listening.  When you care for someone, it's natural that you want to be with that person and that you think about him when you can't."  He kissed the top of Ben's head.

"So you don't mind that I learned to love your voice first?"

"That's actually romantic in its own way, I suppose.  A little odd initially, and I suspect that nowadays many people would think that you were perhaps some sort of stalker, but I believe I shall store it all in the category of odd but endearingly charming."  Qui squeezed harder for a moment before moving one hand to stroke the back of Ben's head and neck.  "Thank you for sharing."

"Love you," Ben murmured as he let the steady heartbeat next to his head soothe his shaken nerves.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§  Chapter Twenty-One  §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Two mornings later, Ben was at work for an early shift, taking care of the first jobs in the door, when he received a phone call at eight-thirty.  The Keo emergency response coordinator was looking for volunteers for a search party.  Since Jake was due in shortly, Frank released him to go, charging the time off to his community service leave.

Ben pulled up in the designated assembly area, parking in the midst of several trucks, vans, cars and a few other motorcycles.  What he had learned from his first miserable experience had caused him to go out to several thrift shops to find a long-sleeved canvas shirt and gloves, as well as a used day pack for extra water and supplies.  He had found a pocket multi-tool that was missing one of its pieces and picked that up as well.  He pulled his gear from a pannier, then put on his Midway cap and joined several others hurrying to the reporting point, where he could see about fifty people already milling about.

"Listen up, listen up!"  A ranger called out, then waited atop a bench until the group quieted.  "I'm Ranger Perkins, coordinator for this search.  First, I want to thank everyone for coming out today.  Second, let me tell you what our situation is."

Ben listened as the ranger explained that a young girl had apparently wandered off early that morning looking for her dog.  When her absence was discovered, her two brothers tried to find her and were now lost as well.  Ben's attention wavered a bit when he noticed Qui moving along the back of the group, occasionally stopping to pull a person out for a brief talk.  His uniform today was a heavier fabric with long sleeves, cargo pocket pants, hiking boots, baseball style cap and sunglasses tucked into a shirt pocket.  He wore his equipment belt which now also held a canteen and long hunting knife in addition to his usual handgun and assortment of other gear.

"The biggest problem is that the little girl has a medical condition and will be due for her medicine soon."  A murmur of concern swept the crowd.  "We are going to take most of you out on a standard search for the boys with Ranger Shanto and me," he nodded to the short black ranger next to him, "and we will send out a small, fast search team with Ranger Finn to look for the girl.  Only those with special expertise and in excellent condition will be going with Ranger Finn and the dogs.  I need the rest of you to start forming into two groups over here so we can get water issued and head out."

Qui had almost reached the end of the group and only six people seemed to have met whatever criteria he was using for his selections.  Ben stepped into his path.

"I want to go with you," Ben said quietly.

"You don't have the experience or woods-sense to take care of yourself on this type of search."  Qui was clearly in full professional mode.  "I can't afford to be worrying about you if you fall behind or hurt yourself."  He gestured impatiently and started to turn away.  "You're better off with the main group."

"I WILL keep up," said Ben.  He moved to intercept Qui again.  "I may not have anything even approaching your expertise out here, but I've got other skills and I'm very damned stubborn.  I have this feeling that you will need me today."

"You don't know what you're talking about."  Qui and Ben stared at each other, almost toe to toe, for a long moment, before Qui tightened his jaw.  "I don't have time for this."

"I need to come," Ben reiterated, holding his ground.

Qui leaned down.  "If I let you come, you obey orders, no questions asked, no smartass back talk, and if I tell you to stay put somewhere, you will plant your damned arse there until someone comes for you.  Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Qui glared one more time, then curtly nodded and headed for the rest of his group.

There were nine people altogether: Qui, Ben, a wiry middle-aged man with two dogs, five other men and one woman.  Qui looked them over before speaking.

"Once we get out of the vehicle, we will be moving hard and fast, so anybody who does not have a sense of urgency or thinks he won't be able to keep up, should join the other group now."  Qui waited for a three-count.  "Alright, everybody in the truck and we'll issue gear on the way."

Twenty minutes later the group disembarked on the edge of a campground.  Qui had passed out a medical kit to a man he called Doc, and then distributed a portable collapsible stretcher, a long-range radio, bottles of water, energy bars, ropes and rappelling gear, maps and compasses.  Qui carried his share of equipment as well as a rifle slung over his back.  He had briefed them on the way, so when they met another ranger with a red-eyed man and woman, it was only a matter of moments for the dogs to get a scent from some of the girl's clothing and they were off.

Four hours later, Ben was grateful for the first long break as the dogs cast up and down the banks of a broad stream trying to recover the lost scent.  His t-shirt under the open canvas shirt was soaked with sweat, his legs ached and he thought he might never get enough oxygen again.  Although not a flat-out pace, Qui had pushed them relentlessly wherever the terrain allowed with only short, occasional breaks and Ben was having second thoughts about the wisdom of his decision to insist on being included.  At least there is one other person who looks almost as tired as I feel, he thought to himself as he looked at the oldest man in their group, but he's a doctor, so I guess that's why Qui wanted him along.  Ben took a long pull from a water bottle as he leaned against a tree.

A shout from the hillside a few hundred meters upstream drew everyone's attention.  It turned out that the taciturn woman in the group was a marathon runner; she had gone ranging in one direction while Qui had gone in the other, leaving the others to rest.  Qui came trotting up and ordered everyone to their feet.  The woman waved, and as they got closer they could see a piece of cloth in her hand.  The dogs began yelping, and they were off again.

After another two hours of scrambling up and down hills and gullies, splashing across streams and getting scratched by the ever-denser woods and brush, Ben was well beyond second thoughts and was heartily cursing whichever evil demon had planted the incredibly stupid notion in his head that he had any business being out here.  He hung on grimly, doing his best to watch his assigned portion of the search line, but knew it wouldn't be too much longer before he was going to have to ask for a rest and be damned to whatever scrap of pride he might have left.  It wasn't any consolation that Qui had probably traveled at least twice as far as anyone else as he criss-crossed back and forth across the search line.

High-pitched yapping followed by an angry roar snapped everyone's heads up.  The thin scream that followed galvanized them into a fast but cautious lope through the trees.  Qui stopped them as they came to the edge of a small clearing, motioning to them to drop down to a knee.

A young girl was lying in some grass near a fringe of trees; a mid-size brown and white mongrel stood in front of her, bristling and growling.  About fifteen feet away, a black bear stood at the base of a small tree, rearing up on her back legs.  A bawl from high in the tree revealed a cub clinging to the slender trunk.

"Norm, get your dogs back down the hill and keep them close," whispered Qui.  He motioned to the rest of the group to get down as he unslung his rifle.  "Zeb, if she charges, can you bring her down?"

A medium-set man in a camouflage shirt looked out across the clearing for a moment, then nodded resolutely.

"You only shoot if she charges, got that?  She's just trying to protect her cub and I don't want her harmed if we can help it."

"Understood."

Qui handed over the rifle.  "I'll circle around and get the girl.  If the bear heads in this direction, get out of her way; she's only going to be wanting to escape."  He put a hand on Zeb's shoulder.  "I may need a distraction.  If I raise my hand, I want you to fire one shot straight up."

"Hand up, one shot.  Got it."

"Good man."  Qui took off his equipment belt, then leaned in very close.  "Kennan, hold this.  Don't touch the pistol and if you lose it, I'll have your hide in little strips."

"Yes, sir."  Ben slipped the belt over his left shoulder and under his right arm, then buckled it securely.  When he looked up, Qui was gone.

Zeb took up position next to a tree, leaning against it to help steady his aim.  Ben remained with the others, kneeling several feet further back.  He felt his pulse racing with tension and uncertainty.  Time dragged as the standoff in the sunlit small clearing continued, the dog still growling and the bear now on all fours, rocking back and forth on her front legs.

“What’s going to happen?” whispered Ben softly to the closest person, the female marathon runner.

The woman glanced at him and whispered back.  “Hopefully, nothing will happen until Ranger Finn makes it happen.  It looks like the dog won’t leave the girl and the bear won’t leave her cub.  The whole thing probably shouldn’t have happened as black bears typically prefer to run or go up a tree.”  She shrugged.  “The girl and dog probably surprised the bears, the cub made a mistake and climbed a tree too small for the sow to follow.  The girl is most likely either too terrified or too exhausted to try to leave.  So here we sit.”

“But what –“

“Shhhh.”  Zeb glared at Ben for a second, then returned his attention to the front.

Ben went quiet, chewing on his lower lip as he began scanning the trees, searching for signs of movement.  Any hint of a breeze had died, and sweat trickled down his temples.  The hard leather of Qui’s equipment belt seemed to bite into his palm and fingers as he clutched it tightly with his left hand.  Try as he might to be silent, his breathing sounded stentorian in his ears, a rocky rush of air that held too little oxygen and drowned out any other noises around him.

A shadow drifting along the far edge of the open area caught Ben's attention.  He focused intently on the movement, finally glimpsing a form crawling through the grass.  His hands clenched even tighter, knuckles white.  Every individual beat of his heart sounded loud and sluggish as he watched helplessly.  Suddenly a large hand reached up and pulled the dog down; a muffled yip sounded in the stillness.

The tension was a palpable haze as Qui crouched low, holding the dog under one arm and grabbing the shirt collar of the weeping youngster.  Slowly, ever so slowly, he began backing away toward the trees.

Ben's heart stopped as the bear reared high and grunted, swinging its head back and forth as if puzzled by this new turn of events.  Qui slowed even further, barely moving, inching along bit by bit toward the refuge of the forest.

The bear dropped to all fours.  It growled as it took two tentative steps forward, its white teeth gleaming.  Qui froze.  Zeb raised the rifle and took careful aim.

Ben felt as if time was suspended... he couldn't breathe, he couldn't turn away, he couldn't feel the ground under him.

A bawl from high above shattered the tableau.  The bear turned back to look up at its cub.  The ranger quickly pulled his burdens into the shade and out of danger.

Breath whooshed out in a huge sigh of relief as Ben collapsed into a boneless crouch.  Sensation and awareness returned with a crash; his eyes stung from sweat, his legs throbbed and his lungs burned.  He had barely sucked in three deep breaths when Qui appeared through the trees.

"Take the dog," whispered Qui as he thrust the squirming animal into the arms of one of the men.  "We need to get away from here now.  Keep quiet and follow me."

Ben struggled to his feet and joined the silent exodus trailing the ranger.  Zeb was the last, keeping a wary eye backward until the clearing was out of sight.  After ten minutes of traveling uphill, Qui stopped and put the girl down in a sunny spot.

"Doc, take a look at her and give her the medicine we brought.  I didn't have a chance to do an exam, but she dropped off as I was carrying her around and her breathing is very shallow."

"Right."  The older man opened the medical kit.  "Isaac, you were an Army medic, right?"

A slender young black man nodded.  "Six years.  What can I do to help?"

"Start on her vital signs while I get the drugs ready to inject."

Ben stood back with the rest of the team as the two men began their work.  He looked up as Zeb joined them.

"We're clear, Ranger Finn.  The bear stayed with her cub."  He handed back the rifle.

"Good."  Qui checked the safety before slinging the rifle across his back, then pulled out a map.  "Margarethe, can you find Norm and his dogs and have them join us?"  He pointed to some spots on the map.  "This was our last position, we're here now, and Norm should be waiting in this area, which isn't all that far."

"No problem."  The woman loped off.

Qui came over to where Ben was standing.  "Still with us?" he asked dryly as he held out a hand.

"A little the worse for wear, but yes, sir."  Ben unbuckled the equipment belt and gave it back.

"Thanks."  After settling the wide belt around his hips, Qui pulled out a small radio.  He turned it on, made several adjustments, listened as he shifted a knob, then finally flipped a toggle and the static that had been pouring out died.  He shook his head.

A muffled curse drew everyone's attention to where the two men were working on the young girl.  Doc looked up, his jaw taut.  "It's not looking good, Finn.  She's on the edge of going into shock and is not reacting as well as she should to the meds.  We need to get her back to proper medical care quickly."

"Do what you can for her."  Qui motioned to another man in the group, a thirtyish muscular man who had effortlessly kept up the pace while carrying the heaviest load.  "Walter, we have to set up the long-range radio.  This is a notoriously bad area for communications and the handhelds and cell phones won't work out here."

"You got it."  Walter smiled cheerfully and pulled his pack off.  He began pulling out pieces of equipment while Qui checked on the medical progress.

Ben shifted his feet as he stood around feeling quite useless.  He sighed and went to plunk himself down next to the last members of the group, two young men who had already stretched out for a rest.

"Hey," said Ben tentatively as he pulled out his last bottle of water and took a sip.  "Tori and Togi, wasn't it?"

"Yup," replied one blond laconically without opening his eyes.

"I'm Tori, that lout is cousin Togi."  The other blond grinned.  "Enjoying the show?"

"I think I'm too tired to enjoy anything except the prospect of getting home again."  Ben managed a small grin in return.  "This isn't anything like the other search group I went out with.  What is supposed to happen now?"

"This isn't a typical search.  They usually go a lot slower trying to cover more ground with bigger teams, but Ranger Finn is like a whole search team of his own when he gets going on these rough ones."  Tori shook his head admiringly.  "Togi and I have hunted and hiked these woods since we were kids, and I've never seen anyone better."

"He does seem to really know what he's doing.  But what happens next today?" Ben persisted.

"Well, Norm and the dogs should be back shortly, but the main thing is what kind of shape that kid is in.  If Doc says she stable, we'll set up the litter and carry her out."  Another big grin.  "That's mainly why we were asked along, extra muscle not just for the search but to help with the litter shifts.  If she's in bad shape, which is what it's sounding like, they'll radio out for a helicopter.  After they pick up the girl, we'll walk back out.  If we get lucky, there'll be a service road we can reach and they'll send a truck out to meet us partway."  He looked around the thick forest.  "If they have to send a chopper, it might be tough finding a landing zone around here, though."

"Hey, you three make yourselves useful," called Qui.  "We need to get the long wire antenna up a tree."

"Can do."  Tori yanked Togi's arm.  "Come on, move your lazy ass before I kick it."

"Yeah, yeah," mumbled Togi as he slowly stood up, "you and what army, ya wuss?"

Ben followed the cousins as they continued to snipe at each other.

Walter looked up as they approached.  He handed them a canvas bag.  "Antenna's in here.  Easiest way to install it is to find something heavy, tie it to the end of the line, and heave it over a branch.  If that doesn't work, one of you will need to climb a tree and pull it up."

"We'll take care of it," said Tori as he grabbed the bag.  He headed for the biggest tree near them while Togi began searching for rocks.

"That should do it," said Walter with a satisfied smile.  He patted the compact rectangle, then began carefully turning switches and knobs.

Ben stepped back out of the way and alternated his attention between the radio operator and the medical operation, wondering once again what had possessed him when he had insisted on coming along.  He was tired, hungry and embarrassed by his realization of how ill-suited he was for this work.

"Radio ready?"  Qui had come up soundlessly.  "It looks like we're probably going to have to get a medevac."

"I followed all of the instructions to the letter and it should be working, but nothing's happening."  Walter looked up, his brows furrowed.  "The other ranger checked it out before we left and it worked fine.  Let me swap the battery and see if that helps."

Tori and Togi came up behind Qui and looked on.  Margarethe, Norm and the dogs trotted up to join the crowd.

"You got the girl, I take it?" asked Norm.

"We did, but she's not in very good shape.  We'll see if we can get her airlifted and then walk out, so you may as well get some rest," answered Qui, not taking his eyes off the radio.

"Sounds good.  We'll be close by."

"I can't get it to come on.  I don't know what's wrong."  Walter leaned back, a frustrated scowl on his face.

Qui knelt down and began checking the various controls.  He shook his head as nothing happened, then rubbed a finger along the back.  "Walter, you took a couple of spills when we hit those loose rock patches this morning.  Do you think you might have landed on it, perhaps?"

"Could have, I guess.  I don't really remember."  Walter picked up his pack and looked at it.  "There are some mud and grass stains, and this little rip here on the side."  He bit his lip.  "Jesus, I feel terrible if I broke the damned thing.  I've never had that happen before."  He lifted his shoulders helplessly, his face pale.  "I'm just the pack mule and basic operator.  I don't know how to fix the equipment."

"It's alright."  Qui looked over at Doc.  Doc's jaw tightened and he shook his head at the unspoken question.  "Damn," said Qui softly as everyone looked at him for guidance.

Everyone except Ben, who was staring down at the radio.

"Let me check it out," said Ben.  He looked up at Qui.  "I may not have woods sense, but I'm pretty good with machines."

A long moment's gaze from those deep blue eyes, then a single nod.  Qui turned away.  "The rest of you get that antenna up.  We'll need to have it ready to go as soon as Ben fixes the radio."

An electric spark raced through Ben at the casual show of confidence, followed by a brief stab of dismay at the responsibility that had also been assigned.  He quickly set both feelings aside and focused on the task at hand.

"Let's see what we've got then, shall we?"  Ben smiled at the guilt-stricken Walter and set to work.

The first thing Ben did was spread his canvas shirt to prevent any loose parts from getting lost.  He laid out the box and accessories, nodding when he found a small spare parts kit.  Ben checked the exterior of the radio case, noting several dents.  Using his multitool, he unscrewed the case and grinned as he saw a schematic on the inside of the case.

Ben hummed to himself as he began troubleshooting.  Within a few minutes he had narrowed down the most likely problem as inability to access the power source.  The batteries themselves appeared to be fine, but when Ben pulled out a circuit board from the bottom of the unit, he saw a few small cracks.  He traced them down and found a dislocated and twisted connector.  He bent all of his attention to the problem, unaware that the tip of his tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth.  Using the smallest pick on the tool and a piece of stiff wire, he gently nudged the connector back into place, cautiously forcing it onto the nib of the battery.  He carefully replaced the board and then laid the entire unit down on the shirt.

Taking a deep breath, Ben sat back and rolled his shoulders to release the tension that had built up.  He glanced up to find Qui looking down at him with a raised eyebrow.  Ben smiled, casually reached for the radio controls and flipped the on switch, watching happily the twitching of Qui's mouth as the indicator light glowed green and a hiss of static burst forth.

Qui gave no other outward sign of emotion.  "Good.  Walter, get the antenna connected and set the frequency."

"On it."  Walter quickly and efficiently got the system hooked up and on the air.  He chewed on his upper lip as he anxiously tuned it, then sighed in relief as he made contact.  "Got it."  He handed the microphone to Qui.

Consulting his map, Qui called in the medevac request and relayed the information on the route his team would be using to walk out.  He handed the mike back and turned to the rest of the team.

"We're set.  The only close pickup point is well over a mile away through some rough terrain, so I'll take the girl myself to make better time.  Doc, wrap her in a blanket and I'll carry her."  He pointed to his map.  "Margarethe, take the team and head for this service road along here.  Take the girl's dog with you.  I'll join you on the road.  Any questions?"  He waited a moment as Margarethe folded her own map and put it into a pocket.  "Good.  I'll leave now; the rest of you pack everything up and leave as soon as you're ready."

As Doc finished preparing the sick child, Qui stopped beside Ben and laid a hand on his shoulder.  "Good work, Ben.  Thanks."  No smile, just a quick squeeze and he was gone.

A warm flush suffused his being as Ben savored the understated compliment.  Although it didn't erase the exhaustion seeping into his bones, he finally began to feel that perhaps his presence was at least partially vindicated.  He helped Walter put the radio back together and into its pack, then joined the group as they began their hike.

Forty-five minutes later they were slogging along a dirt road when Qui came trotting up, dark streaks of sweat marking his shirt.  He gave a thumbs up, which brought smiles to everyone's faces, then took his place walking with the team.  It was almost another forty-five minutes before they met a truck and eagerly climbed aboard for the rest of the return trip.

Ben was silent on the ride back.  He was too tired to do more than nibble on the sandwich from one of the box lunches which had been provided to everyone, but was grateful for the cold drink.  He was occupied with his thoughts, although occasionally he would sneak a glance at Qui, who sat at the back of the vehicle writing up the start of his report on a small notepad.

When they arrived back at their assembly point near a small visitor center, Ben dragged himself out, lagging behind as a representative from the Forest Service stopped each person to verify physical wellbeing and get the proper spellings of names for the official file.  Another ranger was there collecting any equipment which had been issued.  Once he was released, Ben began trudging toward the parking lot, head down, ignoring the excited chatter and yapping of dogs.

A hand on his shoulder stopped Ben.

"Are you alright?  You look beat."

"Tired.  I just want to go home," Ben answered, but didn't look around.

Qui dropped his hand and stepped around in front of Ben.  "You were very quiet on the trip back.  Are you sure there's nothing else wrong?"

Ben took a slow breath, but didn't look up.  "Been thinking..."  He shrugged.

"Come with me."  Qui took Ben's arm and began leading him away.

A few minutes later the two men were sitting across a table in a back room of the visitor center.

"Please talk to me, Ben," said Qui quietly.  "You look like you have a serious problem, and I want to help."

Shoulders slumped, Ben leaned forward, resting his weight on his forearms.  Fatigue weighed heavily on him, but not as heavily as the questions and emotions that had been swirling in his mind much of the day.  Finally he sighed and spoke in a low, rough voice.  "A couple of things have been bothering me, I suppose."  He faltered.

Qui waited patiently.

"I feel like I should apologize for pushing to go with you.  You were right; I don't know what I'm doing out there and I was so worried about trying to keep up, I wasn't any real help on the searching.  If we hadn't found that girl when we did, I was so tired I was ready to ask to stop."  Ben rolled his lower lip between his teeth.  "I felt like a useless dead weight most of the time."

"Ben, you need to understand some things and think about a few others," Qui said firmly.  "That was far beyond a normal search.  Everyone else on the team has lived here for years and is an avid hunter, runner or hiker, even Doc.  Margarethe is even better than me for long distances; she not only runs marathons but is one of the top fifty in the country in competitive orienteering.  You were in some very elite company and still stuck with it, although I do have to admit you were looking ragged out toward the end."

"I was dead on my feet.  I could have gotten somebody hurt."  Ben shook his head and stared down at the table.

"Look at me, young man," said Qui sternly.  He paused until Ben raised his head.  "You need to take away the positive aspects of what happened.  I was not happy you came, but now I'm glad you insisted.  If you had not been along and able to fix the radio, we could not have gotten that girl out of there in time.  You hung in when you were feeling bad, and then made a critical contribution that was directly responsible for helping save her life.  There's more to you than I realized, Ben Kennan.  I'm proud of you and you should be proud of yourself."

"I... I'm not sure what to say."  Ben felt a tightness in his throat.  "I didn't realize she was really that sick."

"She was going into a coma when I got her to the pickup point, and the doctors said another couple of hours' delay could have killed her.  You did that, Ben, you helped her to live, and I want you to remember that."

"Thanks.  That does make me feel better."  Ben took a ragged breath.

There was a brief silence as Qui cocked his head.  "Something else is bothering you, isn't it?"

Ben licked his lips, not sure of the right words.  "Yes... it's the work you do."  He swallowed hard.  "The more I find out about what you really do in the Keo, the more concerned I get for your safety."

"What sort of worrying are you doing?"

"I worry about you getting hurt or killed.  It started the first time that I realized you carry a gun.  And when I saw you out there today... crawling out to retrieve the child and that stupid dog..." Ben waved a hand helplessly.  "I was scared shitless when I thought that bear was going to come after you."  He shuddered.  "All I could think of was you lying there all bloody and torn up, maybe even dead."

"While I appreciate the sentiment, again there are some things you need to understand," said Qui gently.  "I was not in any major danger today –"

"I saw that fucking bear, dammit.  You were right out there with it."

"Give me some credit for knowing what I'm doing in my own territory," said Qui dryly.  "The bear didn't want to be in that situation any more than we wanted her there, and I not only was taking the most non-threatening course of action to extract the girl, but I had backup with Zeb and the rifle.  As long as nobody did anything stupid, the probability was very low that the situation would have escalated."

"Oh."  Ben chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought.  "Maybe I over-reacted... but I also can't help thinking about the fact that you are really a policeman of sorts and people might shoot at you."

"Did I not tell you how few times I've had to draw my gun, let alone fire it?  And did I not tell you one of the main reasons that I learned Tai Chi was to be able to defend myself without violence?"

"Yes, sir, I guess you did."

"Forget all that nonsense you see in movies and on television.  Enforcement work is 99% tedious routine and perhaps 1% excitement."  Qui smiled.  "I should make you look at all the paperwork I have to do; you'd quickly realize how dull the job really can be."

Ben reached a hand shyly across the table.  "I wouldn't worry if I didn't love you so much," he said softly.

Qui stood up and came around the table and put a hand on Ben's shoulder, squeezing gently.  "And I love you, too, Ben."  He leaned over to kiss the top of Ben's head.

A knock on the door sent Qui quickly stepping away.

"There you are!" growled Mack Windham.  "They found the two brothers and the press is already hounding us for photo ops with the whole family and that idiot dog of theirs.  I need the rest of your damned report so we can get it cleared by the PR people."

"Yes, sir.  I was just giving our volunteer a little pep talk after such a tough outing, but I'll have it for you in a few minutes."  He pointed to Ben.  "This is the young man who fixed the radio so we could call in the medevac."

"Kennan, right?"  Windham's tone was suddenly smooth and warm.  "You're new to the crew?"

"Yes, sir."

"That was some good work out there, son," Windham said, shaking Ben's hand.  "We appreciate all of our volunteers and I hope you'll be staying with us.  We couldn't make it here in the Keogami without people like you who are willing to sacrifice their time and effort."

"Thank you, sir."  Ben stood up.  "I am awfully tired and I've already taken up enough of Ranger Finn's time, so I'd better be getting home."

"Get a good rest tonight, Mr. Kennan.  You've certainly earned it."

They walked out of the small building and Ben turned toward the parking lot.  Myrna got him safely home, where Jane and Rafa fussed over him, telling him what they had heard on the radio and television about the rescue.  He went to bed early, but it was only as he was settling under the covers that he allowed himself to savor the words that had been Qui's first declaration of love.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§  Chapter Twenty-Two  §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Ben was still tired and very sore when he woke the next morning.  He lay drowsing for several minutes, thinking about Qui's brief confession of love before they had been interrupted.  It made him feel warm inside and reminded him of some of the other things Qui had told him.  He was much more satisfied with his contribution to the rescue effort after sleeping on it, but couldn't bury his nagging concerns for Qui's safety despite the ranger's protestations.  When he finally pulled himself out of bed, Ben decided stretching exercises were all he was going to be able to manage.

Upstairs at breakfast, Jane handed him the local newspaper folded back to a page prominently displaying a picture of Mack Windham with the family gathered around the rescued girl's hospital bed.  There was a smaller, older side-picture of the girl and the dog.  Ben read the article over his cereal, smiling as he noted how little mention it held of a certain tall, lanky ranger, although there were profuse thanks for the Forest Service and the volunteer searchers.  He wondered idly what else might be in back issues of the newspapers, and decided to do a little research when he had some time.

The phone rang; Ben was closest, so he got up and answered it.

"Brandon residence."

"Ben?"

"Speaking."

"It's Qui.  We've got a lead in an ongoing case, so I'm going to be out of touch for a few days and need to move our next session."

"Don't they give you a break even after something like yesterday?"

"No rest for sinners or for rangers during the summer."  The good humor came through the phone line.  "I should be off Monday if all goes well.  How does that work for you?"

"Perfect, that's my next day off as well.  What time?"

"Nine in the morning would be good."

"Great.  See you then."

Despite Qui's absence, Friday, Saturday and Sunday passed more quickly than Ben would have thought.  He snagged an extra two hours of overtime both days of the weekend as one of the interns left to go back to school.  The garden needed much of his attention with the ripening of many of the early plantings.  He eased back into his exercise routine and caught up with his email obligations to Maureen.  Qui's profession of love had spurred hopes of increased progress in their physical intimacy; Ben found his love figuring ever more prominently in his dreams and had begun sleeping in the soft green t-shirt he had hijacked, despite his normal preference for nudity in bed.

The weather Monday morning was very warm after a relatively cool Sunday.  Ben pulled up beside the small house on the stroke of nine, but the profound silence after he turned off Myrna's engine was unsettling.  The garage was closed and there was no sign of the truck.  Ben walked around the house, knocked on the front door, and called out, but heard no response.  He decided to wait; it was fifteen minutes later that his patience was rewarded when the old truck rattled up and parked next to him.

"Hey, how's it going?" asked Ben.

"Sorry I'm late."  Qui climbed out of the truck and stretched, still in uniform.  "We ended up chasing our tails for the last few days trying to get the drop on a ring of thieves that's been haunting several of the campgrounds."

"Catch any of them?"

"We got two, but we think there are at least another four out there."  Qui yawned and unbuckled his equipment belt.  "We'll try again next weekend, since that's when they've been most active."

Ben looked closer.  Qui had a heavy growth of stubble and his uniform was rumpled.  "You look pretty bushed.  If they had you out all night, I can come back some other time so you can sleep."

"Out most of the last three days, actually, but as long as I'm still up I'd rather get the session in."  Qui grinned.  "You'll not be getting out of it that easily, boyo.  I can always sleep later."

"If you're sure..." Ben said hesitantly.

"I'm sure.  Just let me put my gear away and get these boots off."  Qui headed for the front door.  "You can grab some bottles of water from the refrigerator in the kitchen and throw them in the cooler if you want to make yourself useful.  I'll meet you around the side."

Ben followed Qui inside.  It was the first time he had been invited back in since his illness and he hoped it was another sign of Qui's growing trust.  He found the small cooler on the counter next to several empty bottles evidently waiting to be cleaned and refilled, got two reusable cold packs from the freezer and put in four containers of water from the refrigerator.  He added a bottle of orange juice he found with the water, then carried it outside to the picnic table.  Five minutes later, Qui came out barefoot but still in his green uniform pants and white t-shirt.  Ben handed him the juice.

"Thanks, that was thoughtful of you."  Qui drank the entire bottle, leaning his head back to get the last swallow.  "That hit the spot.  Let's get started."

The session went smoothly.  Ben was impressed yet again with Qui's uncanny ability to focus even when he was so obviously tired.  Qui took him completely through the square form four times, catching every fault of execution with gentle corrections and praise for the final rendition.

"I still think that's a lot more work than it looked when you did it," Ben complained.  He stood beside the faded table glugging a bottle of water.

"Once you have mastered the full form AND the philosophy, it will give energy back to you," Qui responded with a grin.  "You just have to be putting quite a lot of energy in first before you get to that stage."

"Philosophy."  Ben wrinkled his nose as he pulled a second bottle of water from the small cooler.  "The last book on that topic I read was in college, Persig's Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.  It was not really what I thought it was going to be."  He waved dismissively.

Qui laughed.  "No, I suppose it wouldn't be."  He took a sip of water.  "I seem to recall there was some discussion of the beauty of technology in there, however."

"He did have a few interesting points, but by the time I got done writing the paper on it, I was thoroughly tired of the damned thing.  Maybe I'll revisit it one of these days, though."  Ben took another long drink, then stepped over to stand beside Qui's shoulder and hesitated.  "Look, I can leave if you want to get some sleep."

"I probably should, but it's such a beautiful day it seems a shame to waste it lying slug-a-bed."  Qui rose and put a hand on Ben's shoulder.  "We can at least sit together for a bit if you'd like."

"I would very much like."  Ben smiled diffidently.  "Thanks."

"It is literally my pleasure, my boy."

Qui led the way to a shady spot under a large tree along the edge of the grass.  He leaned back and settled himself, spread his legs and nodded.

Ben pulled his sneakers and socks off and happily sat down on the grass, nestling his back against Qui's chest.  He rested his head on Qui's shoulder and relaxed into the warm embrace.

"Mmmmm... so good," murmured Ben as he closed his eyes.

For several minutes, a peaceful serenity held sway.  Qui's hand absently fondled Ben's neck and shoulders, but soon slipped off.  Ben felt a quiet rumble and a slow rise and fall at his back.  He smiled gently as a soft snore escaped.

Ben stayed still for another long moment, but eventually opened his eyes wide as a daring thought came to him.  He looked down to either side, then very slowly reached to pick up Qui's hands.  He carefully moved them, wary of any stirring at his back, sliding them under his t-shirt.  He let the hands lie flat, holding them against the bare skin of his stomach.

"Oh, sweet Jesus... oh, that is so good," breathed Ben.  A sound halfway between a whimper and a moan escaped his lips as he closed his eyes again.  "If this is living in the moment, I hope this one never ends," he whispered.

Boneless except for a light touch atop those wonderful hands, Ben let himself drift in the warmth of the sun.  He was content to simply bask in the luxury of that magnificent feeling.

Despite the undeniable pleasantness of his morning, eventually an unpleasant niggling in his middle forced itself into Ben's awareness.  He cracked an eyelid and considered the sensation.  It quickly became a very specific and localized pressure as his bladder made its fullness known.  He cursed all the extra coffee he had indulged in for breakfast that morning and the extra water after their session; Ben tried to ignore the problem for as long as he could, but that only made it worse.  He shifted his weight, which caused Qui to stir behind him.

"Shit," Ben said softly as Qui's arms tightened around him.  "Not good..."  He sucked in a breath as Qui moved again.  "Let go, big guy," Ben said a little louder.  He tried to loosen the grip of those heavy hands.

"Hmmghgh," mumbled Qui as he pulled Ben closer.  "What?"

"Qui!" Ben almost squeaked as Qui squeezed.  "Let go!  Please!"

"Something wrong?"  Qui peered over Ben's shoulder, a puzzled expression in his sleepy eyes.  "Did I do that?"  He moved his hands along Ben's stomach.  Unfortunately he pressed directly on Ben's distinctly unhappy bladder.

"I've got to take a piss.  Now!" hissed Ben.  "I hope your damned trees don't mind a little extra water."  He pried Qui's hands away and carefully scrambled up.

"Sure... over that way or you can use the bathroom."  Qui waved vaguely further into the woods as he yawned and stretched.

"Not gonna make it to the bathroom."  Ben moved as fast as he dared until he was out of sight behind a very broad tree, unzipping the fly of his jeans as he went.  He leaned against the trunk with one hand as he cut loose with a tremendous sigh of relief.

Heading back toward the clearing, Ben met Qui coming from the house.

"Hey... sorry about that.  Didn't mean to wake you."  Ben rolled one shoulder.

"When you have to go, you have to go."  Qui tilted his head a little to match his half-smile.  "Were my hands doing a little sleepwalking under your shirt?"

"Ummm... no."  Ben smiled sheepishly.  "I did that myself.  I hope that doesn't bother you too much."  His smile turned anxious as he rubbed a hand along his thigh.

"Ah."  Qui sighed.  "I'm not moving fast enough for you, am I?"  His brow was furrowed, his lips pursed.

"No... I mean, it's fine..."  Ben started to speak, but the words caught in his throat a moment.  He scuffled a toe in the grass as he looked down.  "I don't want to push any faster than you are ready to go."

Qui gathered Ben into his arms.  With one hand he tucked Ben's head under his chin, while his other hand moved under Ben's t-shirt and rubbed his back.

Ben wrapped his arms around Qui's middle and held him tight.

"Ben... I want you, I really do... but you've got me all betwixt and between."

"Hmmmph?"  Ben mumbled against Qui's chest.

"My heart tells me that I love you... but I've spent forty-odd years thinking I was one sort of person, and my head is still confused about who or what I am right now."  Qui slid his hand around Ben's neck to lift his chin up, letting his thumb slip gently along Ben's cheek.  He inclined his head down to softly nuzzle Ben's lips.  "Give me a little more time?"

"It's a relationship worth investing in, love."  Ben tried to smile reassuringly, mildly disconcerted at Qui's accurate assessment of his growing frustration.  "I can surely afford time; it's little enough to offer."

"Thank you."  Qui leaned in a little further for a long, lingering kiss, his tongue tentatively asking permission to explore, permission which was eagerly granted.  He kept the pressure light, but let his hands roam up and down Ben's back until the kiss broke and he raised his head.

Ben looked up, savoring the lingering taste on his lips.  He lifted a hand, running his fingertips across the bristly chin.  He traced the lines along the edges of his ranger's face and running down the sides of his mouth, gazing into the bloodshot eyes.  Regretfully, he pulled back.  "I shouldn't be keeping you awake.  You still look awfully tired."

"It has been a long week and I do need more sleep."  Qui rested a hand on each of Ben's shoulders.  "Do you want to stay?"

"Huh?"

"I trust you not to have your wicked way with me if you'd be wanting to have a lie-down beside me."  Qui looked into Ben's eyes.

"You don't have to do that, you know."

"I want to."

"I guess I could do with a nap myself."  Ben smiled bashfully.

"Be right back."  Qui had a little grin as he strode toward the house.

Ben took several slow, deep breaths as he stood under the tree, shaking his hands to dispel the tension in his gut.  He watched as Qui quickly returned with two pillows, a sleeping pad, an unzipped sleeping bag and flannel sheet.

Qui laid the pad, bag and pillows in the grass.  He set the sheet along the side, then knelt on the open sleeping bag.  After that he looked up at Ben, and, with a devilishly delicious smile, slowly pulled off his t-shirt.

Biting his lower lip, Ben watched as Qui lay down and stretched.  When the ranger beckoned to him, Ben swallowed at the sight of all that wonderful bare skin, sternly willing his burgeoning erection to go away.  "Are you sure that's such a good idea?" he asked hoarsely.

"I trust you, remember?"

"I'm not sure I trust me."

"Your choice, Mr. Kennan."  Qui plumped his pillow and pulled the sheet over his legs.  "I'm going to sleep."

"Oh, Jesus," Ben said weakly.  He swallowed again and tried to remember to breathe.  "To hell with it."  He pulled his t-shirt off and dove down before he could change his mind.  He felt a long arm pull him in.  A rumbling laugh vibrated under his head as he laid it on Qui's chest, and snuggled closer, listening to the deep, even breathing, savoring the exquisite feel of skin on skin.  Ben happily settled in for a few hours of bliss.

****************  ***************

Although individual hours separated from his love seemed increasingly difficult to endure, time as a whole inevitably marched onward as September moved through its second week.

Dennis and Margaret held a staff meeting for everybody to discuss upcoming events.  October would mark a major seasonal shift for the business:  one intern had already gone back to school; Jake would be leaving soon to move to his winter home; Bobby was hoping to switch over to full-time only at Rugers by the end of the month; and Mattie had asked to stay on for twenty hours a week as part of her work-study program with the university.  Although Midway would not revert to their six-day-a-week schedule until November, Frank was already interviewing candidates for potential part-time assistance during the winter.

At home, Jane took Ben on a detailed tour of the garden, pointing out row by row her expectations for which items should be harvested each week and explaining the work they would need to do after the last harvest to till in a new layer of organic material without disturbing the rows of perennial vegetables along one end.  She smiled as Ben's eyes glazed over during the talk of planting cycles, sun exposure, decomposition times, nutrient levels and storage requirements for root vegetables.  Ben had answered "Yes, ma'am" at appropriate intervals, but was more than happy to escape when Jane finally laughed and said she would just remind him later when things needed to be done.

One evening Ben was washing dishes after supper when Jane came in the back door, took the cloth from his hand and suggested it would be nice if he went out to the barn for a spell.  Ben had learned that it was useless to ask questions when she had that particular little half-smile, so he went out and found Rafa ensconced inside Celesta's stall staring dismally at a stack of books next to her backpack.  Ben hung over the half-door, carefully asking casual questions until Rafa finally admitted she was feeling overwhelmed after her first full week of classes.

"My high school was small and the university is so big," said Rafa, frustration clear in her voice.  "There are so many people, but I feel lost and alone."  She thumped the stack of books.  "And I think I signed up for too many hard classes.  All the professors seem to think theirs is the only class that counts and I already have much more homework than I thought there would be."

"May I take a look?"

"Of course."

Ben went into the stall and sat down against one wall.  He looked through the books: American history, English literature, introductory calculus, chemistry, advanced Spanish and several workbooks.

"This does seem quite a load to start with.  What sort of courses were you taking your last year in high school?"

"All the college prep and honors courses I could fit in, but there weren't that many available.  And the teachers were so much more friendly."

"Let's think about this for a bit, Rafa.  In high school, you had known everybody for several years, you knew where you fit in and were comfortable.  You said you were also working at home while keeping up top grades, right?"

Rafa nodded impatiently.  "But that was different then.  It was a lot easier and now I just feel stupid."

"Somebody must have thought you were pretty smart if they gave you a full academic scholarship," Ben reminded her.  "You've had topics like this before, but now you're just having a lot thrown at you while you're also trying to get used to a very different environment.  It's a tough adjustment for most people, but I think you can handle it if you get organized."  Ben turned on his most charming smile.  "I thought I was going to die my first month in college, so it's not just you, believe me."

Cel dozed in a corner, one leg cocked, as Ben regaled Rafa with tales of his freshman woes and mishaps until he finally coaxed a relaxed smile and laugh from her.  As they talked about methods for getting organized, Ben suggested some study groups as a way to both meet people and work on academics, and offered to help with the math as that seemed to be the most troublesome subject.  When Ben left an hour later, Rafa thanked him and offered a shy hug.

Quilan Finn stayed very much in Ben's thoughts.  They could only fit in one session that week, an early morning already turning crisp that allowed just a few extra minutes for some brief but flavorful kisses before they both had to depart for work.  Memories of that wondrous day of lying skin to skin under the sun made his evenings and mornings harder to deal with, the result of which was that his right hand was getting quite a workout.  He cursed the erratic schedules they both had, cursed the need for this cautious progress in their relationship and worked harder than ever at trying to stay focused at his job.

There was one particularly notable event that occluded thoughts of his frustrating love life, at least for a little while.  One morning Ben came up to find that Jane and Rafa had prepared a huge breakfast spread with his favorite food.  He was mystified when Jane sat him down and told him breakfast was in his honor.  A moment later she produced an envelope and handed it to him with a flourish.  Ben opened it and pulled out a receipt marked paid in full.

"Congratulations, Ben Kennan.  You are fully caught up with all back rent, security deposits and this month's rent to boot."  Jane and Rafa both had big smiles.

Ben's grin stretched from ear to ear as he smoothed the piece of paper out on the table.  Joy swept through him and he laughed.  "Thank you, ma'am, for putting up with me this long.  I guess it's better late than never."

"It's a pleasure having you around, son. You just keep working away at your dreams, and you'll get there sooner than you think."

All through breakfast Ben kept looking over at the paper and grinning again.  After breakfast he was not allowed to help with the cleanup, and both women sent him off with a hug and another smile.  As he rode to work, he beamed when he realized that he could finally start putting away money towards resuming his college degree.  He floated through that entire day.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§  Chapter Twenty-Three  §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
A gloriously warm mid-September afternoon had Ben smiling in anticipation as he pulled up once more beside the familiar battered truck.  Qui had asked him to wear his running gear and to bring his empty pack, promising both a longer time together and a surprise.  Ben found Qui sitting outside at the picnic table and came up behind him.

"I brought you something," Ben murmured as he handed a box to Qui.

Qui raised an eyebrow.  "Another surprise?  Let's have a look, then, shall we?"  He slowly pulled off the green tissue paper and opened the cardboard box.  A folded note on ivory paper was lying on top of a bag of Hershey's Kisses.

"Here are a few Kisses to remind you of my love when we're apart," read Qui.  He smiled as Ben leaned down to nuzzle his ear and plant a kiss on his neck.  He turned his head and their lips met for a sweet caress.

They indulged themselves for a few moments, but Qui eventually stood up and turned to face Ben.

"That was a lovely thought, but we have work to do first, Sidai, before we play," said Qui with the wave of a finger.

"Yes, Sifu," Ben replied with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.

Qui looked at him sternly and shook his head, then raised one eyebrow.

"I know, patience and perseverance in all things."  Ben wrinkled his nose, but followed obediently to assume their starting positions.

Their session started off as usual, stopping after Ben had run through the entire square form under his teacher's critical eye.  Qui moved around to stand next to his student.  "Assume the starting position, Sidai.  We will do it together this time."

"Yes, Sifu."  Ben's heart swelled with warmth as they flowed through the entire sequence side by side.  He was still feeling the buzz when they made their final bows.

"That was great," Ben enthused as they stood by the table, sipping water.

"I enjoyed that as well," Qui smiled.  "I want you to keep practicing your stances, but you are coming along well.  You have a good grasp of the timing and moves, so next week we'll shift to the first part of the standard Yang 24 form and see how you do."

"I will be looking forward to that.  Thanks."

"Your work will bring its own rewards.  Now, are you ready to get your butt kicked in a run, boyo?"

"You can try, old man," replied Ben with a cheeky grin.  "I don't think you'll find it as easy as that first time."

"We'll see," was Qui's only reply.  He put towels and water in each of their packs, hoisted his own pack and took off.

The pace quickly picked up and Ben was glad he had put in all the extra time running these last few months.  Qui was still clearly well in the lead, though, when they finally came to a halt near Manus.

Panting and sweating, Ben raised his arms and then bowed low.  "I yield... you are still the master, o great one."

"And don't you forget it, boyo."  Qui slipped behind Ben and held him close as he licked sweat from Ben's neck.  "Good enough to eat," he growled as he continued tasting the hot skin.

"Ohhhh.... Yeah."  Ben moaned as he pressed back.  He gave a disappointed squawk when Qui abruptly stopped.  "Hey!  It was just getting good."

"We've something else to do here first."  Qui grinned slyly before walking over to lay a hand on the broad trunk of the old tree in greeting.

Ben followed.  "Hello, Manus," he said with a nod.

Qui gave him an odd look.  "Did you really mean that?"  He cocked his head.

"I think so," Ben replied, surprising himself as he realized that he had not intended it only as an empty gesture.  "I'm still trying to understand this tree thing, but he is your friend so it felt like the polite thing to do."

Reaching up with one hand in what seemed to have become one of his favorite gestures, Qui rubbed his thumb along Ben's cheek.  "Perhaps there really is hope for you."  He nodded and gave a small wistful smile.

Ben turned his head to kiss the palm so invitingly near.  "So what else did you have in mind while we're here?"

"Early fruits of the fall harvest are ready," said Qui with a big grin.

"What fruit are we talking about?"

"Apples!"  Qui waved an arm around.  "Manus's little flock produces some of the best apples around and he has agreed to let us have several to take home."

Ben stared for a moment, then slowly looked around.  It was true; all around them were trees heavy with red, green, gold and multi-hued orbs.  He smiled and shook his head.  "I guess I hadn't noticed."  He turned and nodded to Manus again, this time far more sincerely.  "Thank you, Master Manus.  I shall look forward to enjoying your gift."

Qui smiled and gave Ben a quick hug before taking off his pack.  He led Ben around to different trees, showing him the ripest and best varieties.  They took turns picking a few each from various branches, then carefully placed them into their backpacks, using the towels for padding to reduce bruising.  When they had a plentiful load, they pulled off their shoes and socks and sat near Manus eating a few which Qui had specially chosen.

"Mmmmm."  Ben bit into the crisp yellowish flesh, savoring the sweet crunch as he chewed.  "This is wonderful."  He enthusiastically worked his way around the core.

"They are even better when you pick them fresh like this, but they'll keep well for quite a while."  Qui smiled to see Ben's appreciation.

Ben quickly finished his first apple, then began on a second, taking his time to relish the taste and texture.  As he ate, he watched Qui sitting next to him.  One hand brought a fruit to his mouth... strong white teeth bit into the flesh... juice dripped down his fingers and his chin as his jaw slowly worked.  Ben's nostrils flared as he watched Qui repeat the act.  His own treat dropping by his side, Ben gradually leaned forward.  He reached with one hand and intercepted the remnants of the apple in Qui's hand, bringing it toward his own mouth.  He took a small nibble, swallowed, then licked the length of the palm.  He drew one long finger into his mouth, licking and sucking slowly as he looked into Qui's eyes, which were rapidly darkening.  He felt his other hand drawn toward the sensuous mouth, a tingling growing in his belly as he felt his own fingers being laved.

Every finger was tenderly and thoroughly cleaned as the two men lost themselves in each other's eyes.  They began a slow-motion ballet, fingers now intertwined, tongues seeking the sweat salt and sweet juice on each other's chins and in their mouths.  Ben tried to shift Qui backward but yielded to Qui's sideways lean.  They kissed again, slow lingering mixtures of flavor.  Ben's questing fingers were captured and bussed, held close.  He tried once more to move atop his lover but was rolled onto his back instead as Qui nibbled the edge of his chin and sent electric shocks along his backbone with sloppy kisses and a pointed tongue in his ear.

Ben moaned as he laid his head back to give free access to the hot wetness moving steadily down his neck and delving under the collar of his shirt.  He tried vainly to reach some part of Qui's face to kiss in turn, but couldn't quite stretch that far.  He gasped as a hand snaked under the bottom of his shirt and slid slowly along his belly, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake.

A flush swept the length of Ben's body as he felt his shirt lifted and lips followed the path the hand had earlier traced.  He moaned as hot suction descended on his left nipple, sending a shock wave straight to his cock.  A hand moved up each side, caressing his skin.  Ben reached for Qui but his arms were intercepted and pinned as his shirt was pulled over his head.  He whimpered as that supple heat shifted to his right nipple.  His cock was half hard and his hips began squirming as the delicious torment to the hardened nubs on his chest continued.  Fighting free of the encumbering garment, Ben tossed his shirt aside and made a determined effort to grasp Qui's top.  Yet again, he was thwarted as his arms were held down while Qui persisted in his oral assault up and down Ben's belly and back and forth between his nipples.

As incredibly welcome as Qui's attentions were, Ben was increasingly finding new depths of frustration in being a passive recipient instead of the active aggressor as he usually was.  Needy heat drove him to twist one hand free; he grabbed for Qui's head and tried to force him up for a hard kiss while his lower body bucked in an attempt for leverage.

The convergence of Ben's efforts was a sudden, disastrous and very hard thunk as his chin intercepted Qui's nose.  They fell apart as Qui yelped and reached to stem the trickle of red.

"Damn!"  Ben leaned on one elbow, breathing hard.  "Jesus, I'm sorry."  His other hand was lightly cupped, bouncing on his thigh.  "Are you alright?"  He shook his head and cursed himself for being three kinds of an idiot.

Qui's face was scrunched as he held the tail of his shirt to his nose for a long moment.  He cautiously blew out as he pulled the material away and warily probed at his nose.  "I think it's fine, just a little sore."  Qui looked at Ben, a confused crinkle in his brow and around his eyes.  He reached for Ben's free hand.  An involuntary jerk of Ben's hand pulled it out Qui's reach.  Ben cursed again and rolled onto his stomach, his face between his hands.  "Shit!  I'm sorry... Jesus, I'm so sorry," he mumbled repeatedly between his fingers.

"Ben?"  Qui sat up.  "What's wrong?  What have I screwed up this time?"

Ben lifted his head, still panting, but couldn't look at Qui.  "It's not you.  I'm an idiot.  I'm sorry I fucked up."  He lay tensely, shoulders hunched.

"No, you didn't."  Qui took a deep breath, let it out slowly.  "Ben, something's not right here.  We need to work this out or it will stay not right between us.  This is too important to both of us not to talk about it."

Ben hung his head, closed his eyes tight.  He concentrated on taking three controlled breaths.  One last deep sigh and he opened his eyes.  Ben sat up across from Qui, but still couldn't quite meet his eyes.

"I love you, Ben," Qui said softly, "and I want this to work for us."

Ben licked his lips and finally looked up.  "I love you, Qui.  I need this to work for both of us."

"I know we're still learning about each other, and we've got a long way to go.  But if you're willing, I'd like for us to be able to talk out issues and ask questions.  No censorship.  No recriminations.  No negativity and no guilt trips if the other isn't willing or able to talk about it."  Qui held up one hand.  "I know that may be asking for a lot this early in our relationship, but I believe it is important to start as we mean to continue."  He held out his hand.  "Can you do this?  Do you want to do this?"

Ben sat very still, tongue between his teeth.  He looked back at Qui, then slowly nodded.  "I don't know if I can answer your questions, but I'm willing to try."  He reached out, took Qui's hand and interlaced their fingers.

"May I speak first?" Qui asked softly.

Ben nodded again.

"There are actually a number of questions I have been thinking about but haven't been willing to bring up.  First, though, I want to try to understand what just happened," Qui said hesitantly.  "Can we talk about that?"

"I'm listening."  Ben didn't yet trust himself to say anything further.

"I know you've been frustrated by how slow things are going, and I appreciate the fact that you have been so supportive while I've been sorting things out."

Ben chewed on the inside of his cheek, shrugged.  "I promised that I wouldn't force things.  It's important to me that I keep my promises."

Qui nodded but didn't comment on what was left unsaid.  "As I mentioned, I've been thinking about a number of things, and moving ahead is something I believe I'm ready for.  Today, I thought I was giving you what you've been wanting.  It looked to me as if you were enjoying it, and, to be perfectly honest, I liked it.  A lot.  I want more."  He hesitated, squeezed a little as he held Ben's hand.  "Judging from your reaction, and your body language, it seems to me that I did something wrong.  I don't know what it was... I only know I want to find out what works for both of us."

There was a long silence as Ben tried to find words to help both of them understand.  His breath felt loud in his ears and each beat of his heart seemed a leaden thump as he stared down at their joined hands.  He sighed before finally speaking.

"I liked what you were doing, too."  Ben looked up and smiled.  "A lot.  You are very good once you get going."  He waited to watch Qui's answering flit of a smile.  "I think, though... I didn't feel like an equal participant.  You were initiating everything... I loved the dance, but I'd like to lead at least some of the time, if that makes sense."

"Yes."  Qui nodded.  "I can understand that.  I was having so much fun I wasn't even thinking."  A contrite smile.  "I'm sorry.  That wasn't very considerate of me."

"It's alright.  As you've said before, we've got a lot of learning to do.  In any event, I'd still worry that I'd be pushing too far, too fast."  Ben looked down.  "I'm not sure how to reconcile the issues."

"What if we draw straws for who gets to lead?  Or I could race you for it."

Ben gave a snort of laughter and looked up into Qui's grin.  "We'll work something out, but running is definitely not an option.  I'd probably never get laid if we did that."  His laughter died as he saw a shutter drop in Qui's eyes.  "Sorry.  Did I say something wrong?"

"No, not at all.  That is actually a very good lead-in to something else I've been thinking about a lot.  I've been doing some research on this also."  The silence stretched out as a faint unaccustomed red brushed Qui's cheeks.

"And am I to be enlightened as to the nature of this question?"  Ben grinned to lighten the mood.

"It has to do with leading in the dance."  Qui cleared his throat.  "If we are going to consummate our relationship, we need to discuss the issue of tops and bottoms."

"Oh."  Ben blinked.  That was not at all on the list of possible topics he had been thinking of.  "That is certainly a good question."

"I thought you might find it of interest," said Qui dryly.

"Yes."  Ben cleared his throat in turn.  "Definitely a good question."

"I take it you do desire a physical consummation?"  Qui cocked one eyebrow.

"I think you can take that as a given."  Ben couldn't suppress a mischievous leer.

"So... are you a top or a bottom?"  Qui leaned forward a little, still holding Ben's hand.

Ben ran his tongue along the back of his lower teeth, lifted an eyebrow.  "Top."  He tilted his head.  "I've only ever been a top."

"I see."  Qui paused, a thoughtful expression on his face.  "This could get interesting." With his free hand he gently rubbed his nose.

"Should I assume you would be considered the top in your... um... previous relationships?"

"Usually.  I may finally have one up on you, though."  A rather smug smile graced Qui's face.  "I've had a number of lovers, some of them very adventurous women.  One of them persuaded me to let her try a strap-on."  He wiggled an eyebrow.  "Several times."

Ben opened his mouth, then shut it again as he tried to digest the picture that Qui's words created in his suddenly heated imagination.  He blew out a long breath.  "Did you... like it?" he finally ventured.

"As a novelty, it was certainly interesting."  Qui didn't elaborate.

There was another long silence.

"When I was thinking of what it might be like with you, I did envision myself as the top," Qui said quietly.  "Is that going to be an insurmountable problem?"

"I don't honestly know since I've never done it that way."

"Ah."  Qui thought a moment.  "I'd be willing to take turns if that will help."  He paused.  "Or perhaps there are other things we could do if it's going to be a major issue."

"No."  That brought an immediate reaction.  "I want you, all of you."  Ben had a strained smile.  "And those other things, too."

"I did drop that on you damned suddenly," said Qui.  "Perhaps we should think about it some more and resume this discussion another time."

"Qui..."  Ben swallowed hard, trying to still the swirling in his gut.  He looked into the waiting blue eyes.  "I love you.  I will do whatever is needed for this to work for us."

"And I will not ask you to do something you clearly are not comfortable with."

"I've heard that love is about compromise and sharing."  Ben smiled.  "I'm not comfortable at the moment, but that may only be because I haven't had a chance to consider it."  He kissed Qui's hand.  "The idea of taking turns certainly has some stimulating possibilities."

"You are a good man, Ben Kennan.  I'm looking forward to exploring some of those possibilities with you."

"We can talk some more after I've had a chance to un-fry some of my brain cells."  Ben grinned and spread his free arm.  "While we're at it, what other bombshells did you want to drop?"

"It was just personal curiosity."  Qui hesitated.  "It's probably not really any of my business."

"Now you have me intrigued.  Are you lusting after my secret for doing the perfect oil change in under ten minutes?"

Qui laughed.  "Hardly.  If it's to do with motors it's all black magic anyway as far as I'm concerned."  He went quiet.  "I was just wondering about the real reason you left home."

Ben stopped breathing for a long moment as he stared at Qui.  He sucked in a gasping breath as a cold weight settled in his stomach.  "There was a flaming row and the bastard threw me out."  A muscle jumped in his clenched jaw as ugly memories seared his brain.

"My apologies.  I should not have asked."

"No, if you've figured out that I didn't tell you everything, then you should know what actually happened."  Ben shuddered.  "It's something I need to learn to move past anyway."  He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, anchoring himself to Qui's hand, unaware of how hard he was squeezing.

Qui waited patiently, letting Ben work through the moment.

"It was a flaming row because my father found out I was a flaming faggot.  His words, not mine."  Ben opened his eyes, his back rigid but a calm blue-gray gaze surveying his lover.  "It was just after final exams and we all had had too much to drink... I was stupid enough to get caught with my cock up a man's ass."  He snorted, a humorless gibe, then shrugged dismissively.  "He wasn't even a very good fuck."  Ben paused.  "Anyway, there was a screaming match, the gist of which was that my dear old dad let me know he was ever so unhappy with his worthless piece of trash son... he hit me... disowned me... and told me to get out and never come back.  So I did.  Maureen was the only one in the family who stuck by me."

Qui slid over and pulled Ben into his arms.  "Jaysus, I am so sorry you had to deal with that."  He laid them both down and held the young man close.  "My poor Ben."

The sun slipped down to the tops of the trees while Qui held Ben, caressing him, bestowing soft kisses, murmuring soft words, until tension finally fled and Ben relaxed with a grateful sigh into the safe haven of his love's arms.

****************  ***************

After work the followgin day Ben headed out on back roads for a long ride, hoping Myrna's soothing rumble would ease the pain of re-opened wounds.  It didn't have the effect he had desired, so for the next two evenings he turned instead to his journal, scribbling furiously, pouring out the memories, hopes, dreams and fears of his early years, trying to understand where things had gone so wrong and become so hurtful.  His enlightenment did not get much farther along, but the venting process was cathartic.  His initial resentment at Qui for ripping the scabs open slowly turned to acceptance and gratitude that he could now openly discuss what had happened instead of hiding it away.  He felt needier than usual, and broke his own rule about not bothering Qui on the phone; he was embarrassed by his hunger when the phone rang emptily and he quietly hung up to slink back to his room.

The next morning was an early start time for him but there were relatively few jobs in the shop and Ben found himself increasingly restless.  He finished all of his assignments before lunch, helped rearrange the merchandise out front, inventoried all the tool boxes, cleaned the bay twice and kept asking Frank if he had more work to do.  Frank finally got tired of him and kicked him out a half hour early with an exasperated growl.  Ben hurried straight home, planning on a long hard run to help settle himself.

The sight of a particular battered pickup truck in front of Jane's house caused Ben's heart to leap into his throat.  Qui had never showed up unannounced.  Was there something wrong?  He parked in the garage and hurried inside.

A pleasant scene of domestic bliss greeted Ben as he stepped into the kitchen.  Jane and Qui were sitting at the table, cups of tea and plates of apple pie in front of them.  Qui was in his field uniform.

"Afternoon, Ben," said Jane.  "Care for some pie?"

Qui spoke up as Ben hesitated.  "This is excellent.  Best I've had in a long time."

"Yes, ma'am, a small piece if you don't mind," said Ben to Jane.  He turned to Qui.  "I gave most of Manus's apples to Jane.  I hope that was alright."

"It's a bounty that is meant to be shared."  Qui grinned, a twinkle in his eyes.  "Especially so when it is transformed into such a magnificent pastry by such a lovely baker."

"Go on with you," Jane fussed, but there was a smile on her face as she brought Ben's pie to the table.

Ben got a glass of milk and sat down next to Qui.

"Hey, it's good to see you.  Is there some special occasion?"  Ben took a bite of pie.

"Not really."  Qui shifted in his chair so his knee touched Ben's under the table.  "There was nothing urgent going on today so I took a few hours of leave."

"This is very good, ma'am," Ben said to Jane.

"Thank you.  Qui and I were just chatting about the different varieties of apples that are best for eating versus baking."

"Can you stay a while and talk?"  Ben pushed back with his knee against Qui's as he took another forkful.

"That's why I came by."  Qui finished his last bite of pie before continuing.  "We still have a lot of getting acquainted to do."

"If you've the time, you must stay for supper," said Jane.  "It's only meatloaf tonight, but there's plenty to go around and we can get some fresh pickings from the garden for a nice salad."

"I've got to leave by seven, and I don't want to be putting you to any trouble."

"It's no trouble at all.  It's still early, and we can eat around five-thirty, which will give you plenty of time."  Jane stood up and put a hand on Qui's shoulder.  "We don't get that many visitors, so I insist."

"In that case, I guess I could stay if you'll let me help with the cleanup.  It's very kind of you to offer."

"That's settled then."  Jane put her other hand on Ben's shoulder.  "Rafa will be home soon, and she'll help me get things ready if you boys want to stretch your legs a bit.  You can take the girls for a walk to keep you company."  She gave a small laugh.  "Lord knows the lazy things could use the exercise."

Dexy stuck her head in the door from the laundry room and gave an inquisitive whoof.

Qui laughed and stood up.  "We wouldn't want to disappoint them."  He looked at Ben.  "Out the back way?"

"Sure.  There are some nice trees once we get past the barn, so you'll feel right at home."  Ben grinned.

They went through the rear door and back yard, then started down the dirt road with Dexy and Delilah happily gamboling along.  Qui picked up a stick and threw it for the dogs, letting them chase after it and tussle for the right to bring it proudly back.

"Looks like they're having fun," Ben said.  He walked slowly beside Qui, hands stuffed in his pockets, not quite sure of what to say.

"I'm not ignoring you."  Qui glanced at Ben.  "It's better to let them run off energy now so they'll be less likely to stray later."

"I hadn't thought of that."  Ben fell silent as they walked along for almost fifteen minutes.  They were well out of sight of the house and barn before Qui stopped and petted the dogs as they flopped down in the grass.

"I stopped by because I was worried about you," Qui said quietly.  He straightened and turned to Ben.  "I felt like I stirred up some things about your father that you weren't ready to tackle yet."

"It was bound to come up sooner or later."  Ben shrugged, trying to convince himself yet again that he had been handling it better than he really had.  "Perhaps it was time for me to start getting more serious about dealing with it, and not let it stay a secret between us."

"I shouldn't have just dumped that question on you like that, though, especially when we had just finished such a heavy discussion about us."  Qui's brow was furrowed above dark eyes.  "You were obviously hurting after I did that, and I'm sorry I went too far."

"You're doing a great job as the voice of my conscience," said Ben lightly.  "I haven't been making much progress with the issue and needed the stick sharpened anyway..."  The tentative smile on his lips died away as he stared down and bit his lower lip.  It had hurt back when it happened; it still hurt and he wasn't sure if it would ever stop hurting, but denying it wasn't going to make it go away.  "Fuck, that was a load of bullshit."  He swallowed and made a small noise in his throat.  In a very low voice, almost a whisper, he asked, "Hold me?"

Qui immediately stepped forward and pulled Ben in, tucking Ben's head under his chin and holding him close.  Ben wrapped his arms around Qui's middle, pressing his ear against Qui's chest.  For several minutes they stood silently in a tight embrace as Ben let the steady heartbeat and warmth soothe him.

"What can I do to help?" Qui murmured as he kissed the top of Ben's head.

"Exactly what you're doing now."  Ben squeezed a little harder.

Another silence lingered as Qui very slowly rubbed Ben's back.

"It's been difficult to dig into just how much pain there really was." Ben sighed and moved his head slightly away from Qui's breast.  "It was hard enough dealing with trying to sort out who I was as I got older... what it meant to be gay."  He looked up.  "At the same time I was trying to come to terms with what sort of relationship I had with my father."

"Both of those are tough situations, not easy for anyone to handle."

"I think things would have just dragged along for years if I hadn't got caught."  Ben shuddered.  "That had to have been the worst night of my life."

"Would you be too upset if I told you that was probably the luckiest day of mine?"

"What?"  Ben stepped back far enough to put a hand on each of Qui's shoulders, his arms straight.  "How can you say that?"

"If you hadn't been forced to leave home, I would never have met you."  Qui rubbed his thumb along Ben's cheek.  "And my life would be immensely poorer for that loss."

"That's..."  Ben's throat tightened and he couldn't speak for a moment.  Finally he took Qui's hand and kissed the palm.  "That's downright romantic."

A lopsided half smile preceded the slow lean as Qui slid one hand behind Ben's head and gently pressed his lips to Ben's mouth.  He held the kiss for a long moment, then rested his forehead against Ben's.

"I want to be there for you when you need help," Qui murmured.

Ben smiled and started to reach for Qui for another kiss.  He was almost knocked off his feet, however, by a hard head shoving against his leg.

"Dammit, what is your problem, dog?"  Ben rubbed his knee.

"I suspect it's probably time for her to eat."  Qui glanced at his watch.  "We need to head back if we don't want to be late for supper."

They walked back hand-in-hand, talking about the work Ben was doing in his journal and some of his early feelings about his family, how much he had looked up to his father and tried to earn his respect and affection.  Ben was feeling better for having had the opportunity to start talking things out and was a little more at peace with himself by the time they returned to the house.

During the meal, Ben was content to let the other three carry most of the conversation.  He was struck yet again by the ranger's easy charm.  Ben remembered that Jane had expressed her admiration when they had visited Liz and Linda, but Qui was clearly a hit with both women, whether it was his compliments on Jane's cooking or his sincere interest in Rafa's questions about the wildlife conservation programs in the Keo.  Afterward Qui insisted on washing the dishes; Ben dried as they chatted about Tai Chi and their schedules for the next few weeks.

When Qui had to leave for a promised visit to the Wildlife Conservation Center, Jane pressed a bag of leftover meatloaf and apple pie on him.  He bussed her on the cheek and jokingly threatened to stop by more often at mealtimes if they were all as good as this one.  Ben walked out to the truck with Qui, resting his elbows on the open window as Qui fastened his seat belt.  "Thanks for coming.  I appreciated it tremendously."

"It was my pleasure."  Qui put a hand on Ben's shoulder, gave a quick squeeze.  "I want you to remember that you don't have to try to solve your problems alone."

"I will."  Ben glanced at the house, deciding not to risk a kiss since he couldn't tell if Rafa was watching or not.  "See you Monday morning, right?"

"Monday morning, nine o'clock.  Since it's your day off and I don't have to go in until the afternoon, would you like to take a run and get some more apples?"

"That would be great.  See you then."

Ben stepped back and waved as the truck started down the driveway.  He stood watching until it was completely out of sight, then finally went back in the house with a smile on his face.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§  Chapter Twenty-Four  §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
"Hey, good morning," Ben said as he leaned down to kiss Qui's upturned face.  "And a beautiful morning it is."

"You're certainly in a sunny mood today," said Qui.  He set down his mug of tea, then stood up from the picnic table and stretched.

"Any morning when I get to see you is a good morning, even without the sun."  Ben grinned as he waved a hand toward the gray clouds overhead.  "Although I'll admit it was chillier than I thought it would be when I was doing my garden chores earlier."

"We're getting toward the end of September, and the season will be moving along soon."  Qui pointed toward the trees.  "The early color change in the leaves has already started, and there's been snow up in the mountains."

"Before we start, this is for you." Ben smiled shyly as he held out his hand.

Qui picked up the small envelope wrapped in a green ribbon.  A fancy red heart had been drawn in one corner.  He looked at Ben, then with an anticipatory half-smile he carefully pulled off the ribbon and opened the envelope.  Inside was a folder of matches with a note tucked under the cover.

"I'm hot for you" read the big bold script.  Qui laughed and wrapped Ben in a hug, then kissed him.  "That was a good one, boyo," he said as he rubbed his thumb along Ben's cheek before kissing him again.

"A nice way to start the day.  Thank you," said Qui said as he stepped back.  "Now let's be getting to work."  He began walking out into the open grassy area.

Ben trailed along, a smile on his face, until Qui stopped and turned around.

"Ready to begin, Sidai?"

"Yes, Sifu."  Ben bowed, wiping the grin off his face.

Qui bowed in turn, and the session began.

Stretches were followed by stances.  Qui called out first individual ones, then sequences, watching carefully and offering an occasional comment.

"Good.  We'll do the Yang 24 form next.  Please assume the starting position."  Qui moved next to Ben, let himself relax into the proper posture, then quietly called out the signal to begin.

Ben settled into the smooth, easy movement as they went through the routine side by side.  He would occasionally sneak a glance at his companion, enjoying the peaceful camaraderie of the shared exercise.  He felt warm and loose, the central focus still not totally under control at all times, but he was satisfied that his practice was paying off with definite improvement.  Ben listened closely for the corrective words that Qui offered as they progressed.  Eventually, two pairs of hands crossed slowly in front of two faces.  Two pairs of arms flowed downward in the final movement.  Two bodies relaxed, breathing soft and centered, letting energy coalesce, holding the pose for several beats of their hearts.

 "Well done, Sidai," Qui said softly.

"Thank you, Sifu."  Ben turned to face his teacher.  "What are your instructions?"

"Since we are going for a run, that will be all for today."

The two men bowed to close the session, then walked back to the table for a break before they headed out.

"You are coming along nicely, Ben.  You need to put in some more work on your transitions, but the key for the next several months will be repetition."  Qui took a sip of water.  "Don't forget to include the basics, such as breathing and centering."

"I'll keep working on it.  The square form did help with the timing, so I want to keep that in my practices also."

"Good idea."  Qui nodded.

A car horn beeped from the other side of the house.

Both men stood and went toward the sound.  As they rounded the corner, they saw a postman on the porch, knocking on the front door.

"Morning, Denny.  Can I help you?" called Qui.

"Quilan, glad you're home.  That will save you a trip down to the post office."  The postman pulled a letter from his bag.  "I've got something for you that requires a signature."  He held out the envelope and a pen.

Qui signed the form attached to the envelope, then handed form and pen back.  "Thanks."

"Thank you, Quilan.  Have a nice day."  The postman went back to his truck and began backing down the driveway.

Ben and Qui returned to the table and sat down.  Qui inclined his head as he turned the envelope over in his hands, scrutinizing the return address.

"It's probably important if you had to sign for it," said Ben.  "The run can wait if you want to go ahead and open it.  I don't mind."

Qui nodded his appreciation and carefully slid a finger under the sealed flap.  He pulled out a single heavy sheet, squinting a bit as he held it up, and began reading.

Ben took a drink of water as he watched, wondering for a moment why the squint until he remembered that Qui didn't have his glasses out.  He enjoyed seeing the concentration that the man brought to any task, wishing he could be the focus of that intense scrutiny.  He turned away to give Qui more privacy.

"Jaysus!"

When Ben turned back, Qui's face had gone white, his mouth partially open, as he clutched the paper tight.

"What's wrong?" Ben asked as he stood upright.  He walked around the table and stood next to Qui when his question was ignored.  "Qui?"  He lightly touched Qui's shoulder.

"Bloody fucking hell," Qui whispered with hitching breath.  He thrust the paper toward Ben and sat staring out at the forest, shaking his head.

Carefully prying the stiff fingers from the sheet, Ben looked at the crisply embossed legal letterhead on the ivory linen.  He stepped back and began reading.

Dear Mr. Finn, I have greatly appreciated the long relationship we have had and your excellent stewardship of the property you have rented from us.  I realize that we had both anticipated that this relationship would continue for many more years.  It is therefore with great regret that I must inform you that my wife was recently diagnosed with a major illness which will be terminal in a few years; she wishes to return home to Wyoming to spend her remaining time and I will do all in my power to fulfill her needs.  Due to this adverse situation, I must therefore invoke the early termination clause of your lease and request that you vacate the property not later than 31 October so construction can begin on a new house.  I will, of course, forfeit the two months of payments for September and October and will return the security deposit in accordance with the terms of the lease contract.  If you have further questions, please contact the property manager...

"Damn."  Ben blew out a sharp breath, all of his earlier good feelings vanished.  "That's certainly a kick in the balls."

Qui abruptly stood and walked swiftly to the edge of the clearing, leaning back against the nearest tree, eyes closed.

"Are you alright?" Ben asked anxiously.  "You don't look so good."

"Over fifteen years I've lived here, made this place a home.  I thought I'd be here at least twelve more before I had to think about leaving." Qui's voice was low and rough, his face still pale.

"I'm sorry, Qui.  I know this is awfully sudden..."  Ben's words faltered.

"The circumstances are unfortunate."  Qui opened his eyes finally.  "I met her several years ago.  She is a very nice woman.  She talked about how much she looked forward to coming home some day after her husband retired, but I doubt if this is what she had in mind."  His blue eyes were dark.

"No, I suppose not."  Ben struggled to find words in the face of Qui's impassive tone.

There was an awkward silence.

Slowly Qui let his gaze travel around the clearing and past the small house.  "I suppose I should start thinking about where to go," he said quietly, but didn't move.

Ben shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to come up with something to help.  A sudden inspiration flashed in his head and he smiled brilliantly.

"I've got the perfect idea!"  He looked eagerly at Qui.  "You can move in with me!"

"What?"  Qui turned his head, looked at Ben blankly.

"You can move in with me!" Ben repeated.  "There's a private bathroom and Jane would probably let us have the whole basement, so there'd be plenty of room, and we could, well, we could live together."

"I don't think –"

Ben pressed on, cutting off the flow of 'thanks, but no thanks' he knew would be coming.  "We could share the rent, which would be good for both of us, and you'd still be close enough to visit Manus and the WCC."

"Ben, I'm not sure I'm ready to live together with – "

"If you don't want to sleep together yet, then you could have the bedroom, and I could sleep out in the other part of the basement," Ben rushed on, "and you already know what a great cook Jane is."

Qui shook his head, "I don't want to –"

"If that's too much for now, you can have the basement."  Ben was getting desperate as he saw his brilliant scheme dissolving in Qui's stubborn independence.  "I could easily fix up something upstairs or out in the barn, it would be no trouble at all and it would be so great having you there, don't you see.  I could –"

"Would you let me get a fucking sentence in edgewise, dammit?"  Qui growled as he grabbed Ben's arms.  "I don't want to take your bloody home away from you, and I'm not somebody that's easy to live with."

Ben was shocked into silence by the forceful grip and angry words.  He felt the heat racing up the back of his neck and his pulse hammered as he dropped his eyes.  "I didn't..."  He swallowed hard.  "I'm sorry.  I was pushing too fast again."  He sucked in a rough breath and looked up briefly.  "I would happily give you anything I have.  You mean that much to me.  Anything at all."

"And that kind of self-sacrificing shit is no basis for a proper relationship."  Qui dropped his hands and stepped back a pace.  Two spots of red flushed his cheeks and his nostrils flared.  "You need to have a life of your own with your own self-respect and strength."

"I want you to be part of my life because you are the most important thing in my whole life," Ben said, forcing the words out through a tight throat.  "If I have it or can get it, it's yours."

"What kind of a bloody arsehole do you take me for?" Qui's words were sharp, his jaw muscle jumping.  "If I wanted that sort of blind stupidity, I'd have told you to give me that fucking motorcycle so I could stop worrying about all those crazy truck drivers out there running you off the road."

Ben stared up, barely breathing.  He didn't drop the stare as he wordlessly dug into a pocket.  He pulled out his keys and forced them into Qui's hand.  "I'll leave the helmet with her."  He barely registered the stunned expression as Qui's mouth dropped and his face paled again.  "I'm sorry for trying to rush you into something you obviously don't want.  And I'm sorry you think it's stupid for being willing to do almost anything for someone you love.  I thought that caring enough to put someone else's needs and feelings ahead of your own was part of what you were trying to teach me."  He turned away while he could still make his legs move.  "I won't bother you any more if you don't want me to."  Ben walked blindly away, stiff-legged, hands clenched into hard fists, fighting desperately to hold back the hot tears stinging the back of his eyes.

Halfway across the clearing, Ben heard footsteps rushing up behind him.

"Ben?"

He kept walking until a hand on his shoulder pulled him to a stop.  Ben shrugged off the hand and took a few more steps, pain ripping his heart.

"Please don't go."

The words halted Ben as no physical force possibly could.  He felt his heart beat four times as he slowly turned around, eyes screwed shut and his head bowed to hide the betraying drop of water that trickled down his cheek.  He felt a gentle finger under his chin and yielded to the upward pressure.  Soft lips kissed the tear away, then delicately brushed each eyelid.

"Will you let a foolish idiot apologize?" whispered into Ben's ear.

"Qui..."  Ben barely choked out the name before diving into the sanctuary of the strong arms that gathered him in.

Time stopped as the two men held each other close.  Slowly, ragged breathing and racing hearts calmed in the warmth of their embrace.

"Ben?"

"Hmmph?"  Ben mumbled into Qui's shirt.

"Can we talk?"

Fear held Ben's tongue immobile for a moment.  He didn't fully comprehend what had just happened and wasn't entirely certain he wanted to explore it, but knew they needed to have this out if they were to stay together.  He took a deep breath and stepped back, holding only Qui's hand in his.  Ben nodded.

"You want to sit down?"

"No."  Ben smiled wanly.  "I want to apologize for what I did.  I could see that you had been hit badly and thrown off balance, but I jumped in with both feet, trying to rush you into what I wanted without thinking about what you might really want or need.  I ignored my promise not to push too hard, and that was wrong."

"And I'm sorry for getting angry.  I don't react well to being pushed, and I pushed back in an ugly way."  Qui's tongue worked against the inside of his cheek.  "You actually had a good idea, but I wasn't listening."

"You..." Ben licked his lower lip, "you'd really consider it?"

"If you're sure that's what you truly want."  Qui held up a hand.  "I know we intended to get around to having sex eventually, but that's not at all the same thing as living with somebody every day.  I meant it when I said I'm not an easy person to live with.  You know about my hours, my other interests, and, quite frankly, I've gotten pretty set in some of my ways after mostly living alone for so many years.  It might not be an easy adjustment for either of us."

"I understand.  We'd both have to make changes.  I want to try, though, and if it means sleeping in separate rooms until you're ready for something different, then I will do that."  Ben squeezed a little harder on the hand in his as he took a careful breath.  "I did not consider the offer to be a sacrifice, you know.  Quite the opposite, in fact."

"Right, umm..."  Qui bowed his head and sighed.  "I suppose I'd better be explaining, especially since I've poked you pretty brutally about some of your past life.  I owe you that."  He looked up.  "First, let me say that what you offered was not stupid and that's not how I think of you.  The more I have come to know you, the more I have come to respect you and care for you."  He fell silent.

Ben waited, rolling his lower lip between his teeth, not sure where this was going.

"This is yours."  Qui handed back Myrna's keys.  "I shouldn't have said such a thing.  It was incredibly brainless and insensitive, and you should have told me to stick it up my arse."

"Do you really worry that much about me riding a motorcycle?"  Ben rolled the keys in his free hand before stuffing them back in his pocket.

"Yes.  I've had to help pick up the pieces after road accidents, and the motorcycle always loses that battle."  He shook his head, his eyes bleak.  "It's not pretty.  Makes us even, I suppose, for you worrying about me carrying a gun and chasing bad guys through the forest."

"If you really want..." Ben said reluctantly.

"No!"  Qui took both of Ben's hands in his.  "Don't even think about it."  He paused a moment, eyes closed, and took a deep breath to calm himself.  He opened his eyes again.  "Ben, if this is going to work for us, we must understand and respect each other's needs and desires.  Making adjustments and compromises is one thing, but I always want you to be Ben Kennan, not some shadow of Quilan Finn."

"I'm not sure I understand.  I love you and I want you to be happy.  Making you happy is what makes me happy."

"I love you, too, Ben, but I don't want your love to make you give up what makes you a special person.  Love can become a devouring beast that sucks you dry if you let it."  A bitter smile of regret passed over Qui's face.  "You pushed one of my buttons very hard and you need to understand why."  He pulled Ben in close.  "Growing up in Ireland, it was just my parents and me.  They worked hard, and we always had food on the table even if there wasn't ever much in the way of luxuries.  My folks were good people, and loved each other very much.  Da taught me how to work with my hands, and Ma taught me about caring for the world and the creatures in it."

There was a long silence.  Ben rested against Qui's chest and waited.

"Da loved my mother so much that he would do anything for her.  She was the center of his world, and he would have cut off his right hand if she had asked."  Qui's words were distant and detached.  "When I was sixteen, we found out she had cancer.  It was too far along for a cure and it took her six months to die, wasting away, and each day a little more of Da died with her.  After the funeral, he couldn't put himself back together.  Started drinking to ease the pain, and was coming home hammered more and more often.  He got quieter, more withdrawn as time went on... I was feeling helpless because it seemed 'twas nothing I could do to get through to him."  Qui's arms tightened around Ben.  "A month before my eighteenth birthday, he was coming out of a pub and got himself run over by a lorry.  His mates said he deliberately stepped out into the road."  A heavy sigh.  "That was mostly why I was after leaving Ireland as soon as I turned eighteen.  I had the U.S. citizenship through Ma and having been born here, so I took a set of Da's tools, sold everything else and went to live with a cousin here in the States."  Qui leaned back and looked down at Ben.  "My Da was so lost in his love, there was nothing left of himself at all.  Ever since I've always had trouble totally committing to someone, and when I'm hearing words like sacrifice and giving up everything for someone, it gets to setting off horrible clanging bells in my head.   'Tis an issue I've never fully resolved, and probably the biggest reason none of my previous relationships ever became permanent."

"I'm sorry."  Ben raised a hand to Qui's shoulder.  "What do you want me to do?"

"How about if we just keep working on helping each other deal with our various issues, and agree to kick the other's arse if one of us gets to being too stupid about something?"  Qui arched an eyebrow.

"I could live with that."  Ben gave a snort of laughter.

"You sure you want to be living with a gun-toting, semi-neurotic tree-hugging do-gooder who's never around half the time, boyo?"  Qui's smile was wide and mischievous.

"If you can stand living with a money-obsessed, sex-starved motorcycle mechanic who lusts after your body and has a fetish for wanting you to read to him every night, then I guess I'm your man."  Ben's smile was even wider and more mischievous.

Qui laughed and hugged Ben.

"I think it's time we were paying a visit to Mrs. Jane Brandon."

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§  Chapter Twenty-Five  §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
They decided to charge ahead before either or both of them lost their nerve.  Qui followed Ben back to Jane's house.  Ben breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled open the garage door and saw her truck safely ensconced inside.  He noticed that Rafa's Subaru was in the carport, then remembered that on Mondays she had only two early morning classes.  The two men met in the garage for a fortifying hug before sauntering casually into the kitchen.

"Good morning, ma'am," said Ben.

Jane turned from the counter where she was cutting up vegetables.  She dumped them into a large bowl of cold water, then grabbed a towel to wipe her hands.

"Good morning to you, Ben."  She smiled.  "And it's good to see you again, Mr. Finn.  Sit down and let me get you boys some tea."

"Qui, please.  Thank you, ma'am."

Qui sat at the table while Ben set out cups and spoons for all three of them.  They exchanged glances while Jane poured.

"Is this a new blend?" Qui asked after a sip.  "It's got a very good flavor."

"Decided to try some of that red tea I've been hearing about.  It's supposed to have antioxidants and such."  Jane set her cup down and folded her hands.  "So, what brings you boys here together this morning?"

Ben cleared his throat.  "Um, I –"

"We," Qui interjected firmly.

"Right, WE want to talk to you about a situation."  Ben rubbed his chin.

"I'm listening, son."

"You see, this morning I got a certified letter from the man who owns the place I've been renting," said Qui.  "His wife is sick and they want to come back and live there, so my lease is being terminated as of the end of October."

"My goodness, that's terrible.  For both of you.  That poor woman."  Jane reached over to touch Qui's hand.  "You've lived there quite a long time, haven't you?"

"Over fifteen years.  It's going to seem very strange to move somewhere else."

"Moving can be downright stressful."  Jane nodded thoughtfully.  "Any thoughts yet on where you might be looking to head to?"

There was a short silence as Ben and Qui glanced at each other.

"If it's alright with you, ma'am, I've asked Qui to move in with me," said Ben.  He rubbed his hands on his jeans under the table.  "We were hoping we could work out a deal for the whole basement so he could bring his own stuff over."

"Living together..."  Jane looked slowly back and forth between the two men.  "That's a pretty serious step.  Had a lot of married years under my belt, so to speak; they were good years but not always easy years living with another person."

"Yes, ma'am," Ben replied.  "We know it will need a lot of give and take, but we intend to work hard at it."

"There's only one bedroom," Jane observed.

Qui took Ben's hand and held it on top of the table.  "One will do fine."

Ben smiled shyly as he squeezed Qui's hand.

"Then that's fine with me, and I'm happy for both of you.  We can put a door in at the base of the stairs, too, to give you some more privacy."

"Before we go any further, I do have to tell you that my weapon comes home with me," said Qui.  "I have a gun safe for it, but I don't know if that will bother you."

"Oh Lordy, no."  Jane laughed.  "Menfolk in my family have been hunters as long as there have been Brandons in these parts.  My Roger was with the sheriff's department, and we always had guns in the house until he passed away.  Used to go shooting at the range with him, and could take the things apart blindfolded."

"Sounds like the two of you will have to give me some pointers about gun safety," said Ben with a smile.

"There is another very important question that's got to be taken care of before we can finalize this living together business," said Jane.

"What's that, ma'am?" Ben asked.

"This is also Rafa's home.  I don't think of either of you as just boarders; we're all like a family here."  Jane looked pointedly at Ben, then Qui.  "If you're wanting to be living and sleeping together, it's only fair that she understands what is going on and is comfortable with it.  You talk to her, and if she agrees we'll figure out the details."

Ben nodded and looked at Qui.  "She's right.  That would be the only fair thing to do.  This is Rafa's home just as much as it's mine."

"Alright.  Is she here now?" asked Qui.  "I'd like to know one way or the other what we're going to be able to do."

"I saw her head for the barn after she got back from school a half hour ago," said Jane.  She smiled as they stood up.  "Good luck."

Rafa was in the corral, standing in the middle with Celesta on a lunge line.  Ben and Qui sat on the fence and watched as Rafa put the mare through three different gaits in different directions, then took the line off and repeated the drill, talking to her constantly with praise, corrections or directions.

"She's even worse than you when we're in session," Ben joked.

"Worse than who?"

Ben looked up to see Rafa at eye level next to him as she sat bareback atop Cel and was caught speechless.

"Pay no attention to him," said Qui dryly.  "He's trying to intimate that I make him work too hard when I'm attempting to pound a few rudiments of Tai Chi into his thick skull."

"You know Tai Chi, Mr. Finn?"  Rafa's eyes lit up.  "I've been taking a class at university for my PE requirement, but I feel like such a klutz trying to do those turns.  Can you recommend some references that might help?"

"I think I could do that, or perhaps even look at what you're trying to do if I'm here while Ben is practicing."  Ben started to interrupt, but Qui stuck an elbow in his ribs.  "You have a very nice rapport with your horse.  Perhaps you could even teach her a few of the movements."

"Thank you."  Rafa ducked her head as she leaned to pat the mare's neck.  "Cel is tremendously smart, and so wonderful to work with."  The horse shook her head as if agreeing.

Qui smiled as he rubbed Cel's nose.  "She knows it, too."  He reached up to scratch behind her ears.

Ben cleared his throat.  "Actually, Rafa, we need to speak to you if you have a few minutes."

"Of course."  Rafa straightened but did not dismount.  "What did you want to talk about?"

"It's a personal and sensitive issue," said Qui carefully.  "We would really appreciate it if you don't mention this to anyone else except Jane."

"Is this something Jane already knows about?"

"Yes, we talked to her first, and she wanted us to discuss it with you."

"Well."  Rafa looked puzzled, then nodded.  "Alright."

Ben took a deep breath, looked at Qui, then back at Rafa.  "Qui and I have become very good friends the last few months.  He's been helping me with some personal issues and teaching me Tai Chi."

"Today I got a letter letting me know my lease is being terminated and I'll have to move," added Qui.  "Ben has offered to let me move in and share the basement if Jane approves.  We talked to Jane, and she wants to make sure you don't have a problem with that arrangement."

"I'm sorry to hear about your lease," said Rafa.  "I like Ben, and you've been very nice to me.  Why should I mind?"

"We would be living together in the basement.  As in, um... sleeping together."  Ben swallowed and took another deep breath.  "I'm gay, Rafa.  Qui and I love each other, and we want to be together."

"Sleeping together as in having... sex?" Rafa asked very slowly.

They nodded.

Rafa stared at Qui.  "I saw you when everybody came to build the corral.  Not to be disrespectful, but the women... I mean... you don't..."

"I can assure you it was a big surprise to me when I finally realized how I felt about Ben," said Qui with a wry smile.  "I've liked women all my life, and I'm quite the latecomer to this new game."

"Oh."  Rafa crossed her arms across her chest and looked down at Cel as she tilted her head, brow furrowed.

Ben waited anxiously as he watched Rafa struggling with this unexpected concept.  He reached out and met Qui's hand reaching for his.  They smiled at each other, then turned their heads back toward Rafa.

"I think that if I was still in the Catholic church, I would have been very uncomfortable with the idea," Rafa said as she looked at their joined hands.  She paused, rubbing one hand along Cel's withers.  "I have been through a lot since then...  Reverend Jenkins says that everyone has good inside them, and I have seen how different people can work together to help each other."  She looked toward the house, then back at the two men.  She nodded to herself.  "I know Jane is very tolerant, and it is her house, so if she doesn't mind, then I guess I don't mind either."

"Are you sure?" Ben asked.  "We'll try to be discreet, but it is kind of right in your face, like when you have to look at us at the same table for meals.  If we do anything that bothers you, I want you to know that you are free to tell us off."

"As long as you aren't doing it on the kitchen table or in the barn and scaring Cel, then I think I can get used to it."  Rafa smiled shyly.

Ben laughed at the unexpected comeback.  "Thank you, Rafa.  This really means a lot to us, and we'll try to be good housemates."

"My thanks also," Qui added.  "Could you do one more favor for us, and come let Jane know?"

"Of course."  Rafa slid down from Cel as Ben and Qui jumped to the ground.  "I'm sure she'll want to see all of us anyway to sort out the house rules if we're all going to be one big happy family."

Ben and Qui both hugged Rafa, who looked a bit overwhelmed.  They walked back to the house to start planning their new future together.

****************  ***************

"I have to say that our Mrs. Brandon is a remarkably generous woman," said Qui as he stood at the foot of the stairs, one arm around Ben's shoulders, while they surveyed the large basement and its jumble of boxes, bags and cloth-covered lumps.  "She's letting us have all this space plus part of the loft in the barn for a woodworking shop."

"She is a very good-hearted woman," Ben replied as he wrapped an arm around Qui's waist.  "Also very practical, though, and a great believer in the win-win scenario.  She wasn't really using the space for anything but storage, so we gain by having a place for us to live at a lower individual cost than what either of us was paying, with nice perks like the kitchen and laundry, and she gains by having another helping hand around the house plus more income.  It was nice of her to reduce the rent in return for chores; a regular landlord probably wouldn't be willing to do that."  He turned his head up to look at Qui.  "Although I still think you should have let me pay a little bigger share."

"We went through that already.  I'm taking up at least two-thirds of the total space and I make significantly more money than you, so I will pay two-thirds of the rent.  We can revisit it next year if you like.  And we wouldn't need the new door or the fireplace cleaned if I wasn't moving in, so it's only right that I pay for those things."

"Alright, I suppose I can deal with that, since it means I can start saving a little more for college."  Ben leaned in closer.  "That was a good idea you had about putting money in every month for groceries and letting Jane take care of shopping and cooking.  It didn't always quite work out when everybody sort of did their own ad hoc thing, and we can still buy other food or go out if we want something different."

"I am a most indifferent and irregular cook, and this is a wonderful opportunity."  Qui kissed the top of Ben's head.  "Jane's cooking was really the only reason why I wanted to live here, of course."

"Hey," Ben squawked, "I thought I was supposed to be the main attraction."

Qui turned Ben around and pushed him against the wall, then kissed him hard until he had Ben gasping for breath.

"I suppose I could manage to put up with you for dessert."  A wicked smile graced Qui's lips as he braced himself against the wall with both outstretched arms.

"You sorry bastard."  Ben sucked in more air to calm his racing pulse.  He reached for another kiss but his effort was frustrated when Qui stepped back.

"Tsk, tsk, that's 'you sorry bastard, SIR'."  Qui shook his head.  "Sister Ursula would be ashamed of your manners, boy."

"And people call ME a smartass," Ben muttered darkly.

"It's not only smart but also a very hot arse, and I'm looking forward to getting better acquainted with it," Qui said with a deadpan expression.

"You –"  It took a moment for the words to register as Ben looked at Qui, then he dissolved in laughter, leaning back for support.  When he caught his breath, he shook his head helplessly.  "I can see there is a lot I still need to learn about you."

"And vice versa, I'm sure."  Qui's eyes darkened and his lips thinned.  "There are parts of me that I only allow those closest to me to know about, and I do have a lot of faults that you haven't really seen yet, Ben.  If you have any doubts at all, there's still time to change things."

"Life is full of doubts.  There are two things of which I am truly certain, however."  Ben took Qui's hand, brought it to his mouth, and softly kissed the palm.  "One, I love you."  He kissed the palm again.  "Two, that if I don't do this now, I will regret it for the rest of my life."

Qui caressed Ben's cheek with his thumb as he looked into his eyes.  "I love you, too, Ben Kennan."  He bestowed a light kiss and regretfully pulled back.  He continued briskly.  "Right now we've got work to be doing, though, to sort out everything that's here so Jane can decide what she wants to save or recycle and what we might want to be keeping.  I've got several hours until I need to leave, so we should be able to get a good first look at what we have to deal with."

"Yes, sir."  Ben gave a mock salute.  "I already know I want to hang on to the weight set.  It's very handy for workouts."  He looked around the generous space.  "How much do you actually have that you will be bringing over?"

"There are my tools and projects in the back room, but that will all go into the barn.  Everything you saw in the living room is mine, so that will come."  Qui thought for a moment, eyes narrowed.  "There is a wardrobe I built, which will give us some extra closet space, the small table and four chairs in the kitchen... other than that it's mostly clothes, linens, a few dishes, my outdoor gear and things like that.  The appliances and the rest of the furniture stay with the house, although I was thinking it might be nice to have a small refrigerator down here for cold drinks and snacks."

"Sounds like everything should fit pretty easily, with plenty of room left over if we find something here we want to keep."  Ben was looking around and starting to pull dust cloths off.

"Ben?"

"Hmm?"

"How big is your bed?"

Ben straightened and turned, a glint in his eyes.  "I wasn't aware we were already at that point."

"I'm taller than you, in case you hadn't noticed," Qui said with an exasperated snort.  "If we're going to need a bigger bed, we should plan for that now."

"Let me show you around, and you can judge for yourself.  Over there in the far wall next to the weight machine," Ben pointed, "is our private door to the outside.  This, of course, is the main living area," said Ben with a bow and flourish.  "That door on your right as you come down from the stairs is the furnace and hot water heater, and this door on the other side of the stairs, my good man, is our bathroom."  Ben opened a wooden door.

Qui stepped inside and stopped short.  "Jaysus, did they swim in that damned thing?"

"You have to remember that the whole basement was used by Jane's son up until the time he joined the Marines and left home.  He and his father built the bedroom and bathroom.  Jane doesn't talk about him much, but from the pictures I gather that he wasn't quite as tall as you but was heftier, like a football linebacker.  Hence the weightlifting outfit.  And the big bathtub."  Ben waggled an eyebrow.  "It does present certain interesting possibilities, don't you think?"

"Hedonist," Qui mocked, looking around.  "Oh well, plenty of room to sort out toothbrushes and towels."

They moved to the next door.

"Here is the 'piece de resistance'," Ben announced with a smile.  He watched as Qui took two paces in and paused, staring at the bed.

"I think it's actually bigger than the one I have now," Qui said, still rooted to the spot.

"Very solid, too.  The young man apparently brought his boy and girl friends down here for playtime."

Qui blinked, turned his head.  "Come again?"

"As best as I can determine, Richard Brandon was discreetly bisexual."  Ben shrugged.  "Probably helps explain why Jane doesn't have issues with gay people."

"I see."  Qui nodded as he looked around the rest of the room.  "Everything looks like good heavy-duty wood.  It will be nice having a desk in here and another out in the main room so we can both do work, especially after you start school again."

"Good point."  Ben sat down sideways in the desk chair.  "I don't have much stuff, so it'll be easy to clear out half the drawers and closet for you, and we can figure out where to put the wardrobe."

Qui stepped to the end of the bed and was staring at it again.

"You can try it if you want," said Ben quietly.  He watched intently as a range of emotions played over Qui's face.  "If you don't like the mattress, we can look for a different one."

"That's the bed we're going to share..."

Ben stood and walked over to Qui.  He reached up to hold Qui's face between his hands.  "This time it's my turn to ask you not to do something if you're not completely comfortable with it.  I can wait."

"No, I don't want to wait."  Qui smiled.  "That was just reality starting to sink in.  In any event, we've got a month to sort things out."  He took Ben's hands between his own.  "Given the limited free time we have available, I think it will take a couple of weeks to get everything cleaned up on this end.  After that I'm scheduled for a long patrol for several days, and the last part of October we can pack up my stuff and get it all moved over.  I'll try to get a couple of days' leave for that last part of the move."  He looked sternly at Ben.  "And don't think you're getting out of doing Tai Chi sessions because of this, young man."

"Yes, sir.  Sounds like a plan."  Ben ducked his head.  "Umm... I don't remember if I've mentioned it, but my birthday is at the end of October."

"That is wonderful timing, then.  Let's see if we can make it an occasion to remember."  Qui smiled as he pulled Ben close for a long sweet kiss.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§  Chapter Twenty-Six  §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Ben felt like he was getting an education in advanced time management as summer ended and fall began closing in.  He had to put in overtime at work to cover the gap in people while Frank continued his search for new part-time help, the garden demanded extra attention as the last surge of ripening took place, his previous commitments to UPA had to be honored, and he could not neglect his daily workouts.  In the basement the sorting and rearranging continued, Qui insisted on fitting in their Tai Chi sessions, and he began helping with packing of Qui's possessions.  Much of the next month flashed by, only highlights remaining in his memory of that tumultuous period.

***

"Archhoo!"

"Gesundheit," said Qui.

"I don't think most of this stuff has been touched in years."  Ben wiped his nose with the back of his hand as he surveyed the sorted stacks.  "Aside from the weights, without knowing what's really in all those boxes the only thing I've seen so far that I'd want to keep might be those rugs, the fireplace tools, and that wooden storage chest."

"Seems reasonable.  Might want to save that brown armchair since it's in such excellent condition; it would go well with my sofa.  If that one box actually contains lamps, we should ask Jane about those; another floor lamp or two would be useful."

"How're things coming along, boys?"  Jane asked as she came down the stairs with two large glasses of iced tea.

"We're making good progress.  Thanks, ma'am," said Ben, taking a welcome gulp.

"We've got things arranged so you can start looking in the boxes now," said Qui.  "There are only a few pieces we'd probably like to hang on to, and we can help move the rest upstairs to the attic if you like.  We didn't want to pry into the boxes since we weren't sure if the labels were all correct."

Jane took a quick perusal of the various stacks.  "Way past time I should have been getting rid of most of this, but I think the labels were pretty accurate.  I'll open the boxes tomorrow and check to be sure."  She waved a hand at several grey cartons.  "You should think about the household things in case you want some extra towels or dishes or such; most of that I'll be giving to the church for their loan closet."  She wandered a little further.  "All the ones labeled as my clothes or Roger's things will probably go to the thrift store or the church.  In one of Roger's boxes there should be a right nice set of hunting knives and other gear.  You're welcome to any of that you might like."

"Thanks.  We'll check out whatever you're willing to pass on," said Qui.

Jane looked up from the boxes.  "Ben, are you going to be sticking with your Forest volunteer work?"

"Yes, ma'am, I certainly intend to."

"You'll need proper outdoor boots and clothes, probably a rain slicker too.  I'll keep an eye out for some things that might fit you when I do the sorting."

"I appreciate that, ma'am," said Ben.

"I'll have to take a closer look at these."  Jane stopped in front of a set of cardboard boxes of various sizes.  "I'm not sure what Richard left behind after he enlisted."  She ran her fingers over the top box, shifted them around to get a better look.  She picked up a very heavily taped rectangular box about a foot high and about a foot and a half long.  She looked down at the bold black handwriting for a long moment before raising her head.

"Oh, dear," she said as her cheeks flushed red.  "That boy surely had his father's sense of humor..."  She raised a hand to wipe her eyes.

"Is something wrong, ma'am?" Ben asked.  He had never seen the woman this flustered.

Jane thrust the box into Qui's hands.  "I've got a real good notion what sorts of things are in there and I'd just as soon not deal with any of it.  You can open the box or not as you want and welcome to it.  If you don't want whatever's there, I'd take it kindly if you'd dispose of the things."  She started for the stairs.

Ben and Qui looked at the label, which brashly proclaimed the contents to be 'Big Dick's Big Boy Toys'.

"Dick was Richard?" Ben asked.

Jane paused at the foot of the stairs.  "Some of his friends used that nickname when they thought I wasn't around."  She shook her head.  "It was... well, never mind."  She fled up the stairs.

Qui looked at Ben.

Ben looked at Qui.

They both looked back down at the box.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Qui asked softly.

"Oh, yeah.  My brain's right down there in that particular gutter."

Qui gave a half snort as Ben grabbed the box, sat down on a small sagging couch and pulled out his pocket tool to begin sawing open the tape.  Qui sat down beside Ben to watch.

"Holy shit!"  Ben stared down into the opened box.

"I thought I'd been around a little, but I don't even know what some of that is."  Qui gawked, mouth half open.

Ben had a huge grin as he looked up at Qui.  "I think I would have loved to have met Dick Brandon."

***

"There we go."  Qui swung the door back and forth slowly.  "That latch will hold it open out of the way, or we can use the lock if we want privacy."

"Nice job," said Ben.  "I would have been at it a lot longer if I had tried to put that door in myself."

"Goes fast with two people and the right tools," Qui said absently as he cleaned up after himself.

"Yes, sir."  Ben turned around and surveyed their domain.  Except for the items they had asked to keep, everything else had been swept away by a volunteer team from Jane's church.  The hardwood floors gleamed with a fresh coat of wax and a stand of iron tools stood neatly by the newly cleaned fireplace.

"Looks huge when it's empty."  Qui put an arm around Ben.

"I think we'll still have quite a bit of room after we get all of your things moved in.  If you agree, I was thinking the fireplace should be focus of that end of the room and we could arrange the sofa and chairs to face it."

"Good idea.  We can lay out a floor plan for everything next time I'm over."  Qui looked around.  "If we arranged it properly, we could probably do Tai Chi in here in a pinch, but I think that center section of the barn would be much better when the weather is really bad."

"I could see that."  Ben gazed at the fireplace, envisioning long winter evenings in front of it.  "You know, that's quite a large rocking chair you built."

"'Tis very sturdy, and big enough for two."

Ben looked up at Qui, and buried the sly grin in a kiss.

***

The big house was silent as the clock ticked toward midnight.  Ben had felt tired in the morning after an unexpectedly long set at UPA the previous evening, and it had been a longer day than normal with twelve busy hours at Midway, two hours in the garden, an hour helping Rafa with calculus and a hard workout to keep his mind off Qui's fourth day of absence out on patrol somewhere in the Keo.  Hair still wet from a shower, Ben stood naked in the middle of his bedroom.  He held Qui's old t-shirt in his left hand as he stared at the bed.

The bed he would soon be sharing with Quilan Finn.

A quiver ran through him at the prospect, and Ben finally understood what Qui had meant about reality starting to sink in.

***

"Jaysus, but you taste good!"

Ben laid his head back to let Qui's questing tongue have free access.  After a long run they had stopped to visit Manus.  Once a load of apples was safely stowed in each of their backpacks, Qui had clearly decided it was time for a little interactive exploration.

"Mmmgmgm," Ben moaned as Qui's tongue dipped into his ear.  Electricity jolted his spine as nips to his ear were followed by a hard kiss.  With tongue.  Hot, exquisite, wet tongue while a hand sneaked under his t-shirt and rubbed his belly.

Soft lips moved down Ben's neck and back around to his ear as two hands raised the sweat-soaked t-shirt up his torso.  There was a pause as Qui pulled the shirt completely off, but the brief rush of cool air quickly turned to warmth as Qui attacked Ben's nipples with tongue and fingers.

Ben squirmed as the heat built up and blood began roaring in his ears.  He pushed back blindly and rolled Qui onto his back.  He dove under the bottom of Qui's t-shirt, kissing and licking the expanse of hot flesh, moving upward to suck on hard nubs.  He grabbed the shirt and hauled it over Qui's head, momentarily trapping his lover's arms in its folds as he captured his mouth in a long lush kiss.

Qui fought free, ripping the shirt away, and wrapped his arms around Ben.  They rolled and wrestled, kissing, hands roaming freely, bare skin hot and slippery, laughing at a mis-timed nip, rubbing, fondling, licking, caressing.

Ben looked down at his lover's flushed face.  He was straddled across Qui's groin, breathing hard, his heart hammering.  His hands were braced on Qui's broad shoulders; he could feel Qui's hands gripping his hips.

He also felt the hard flesh that strained against his own erection through the intervening layers of cloth.

They stared at each other, faces taut with lust.  The moment seemed to stretch forever, until finally Ben caught the flicker of uncertainty hiding in his lover's eyes.  He shuddered and carefully moved off to lie next to Qui.

Qui shifted up onto one elbow and leaned over.  "Thank you," he whispered before bestowing a light kiss.  "Soon, my love, soon."

***

"I didn't mind all those tools even if I don't know what half of them are, but why the hell did we have to bring all of that old wood?  It was fucking heavy hauling it up those stairs," Ben complained as they crossed the back yard.

"They are all pieces I've been saving for projects.  It has to be the right kind and has to be aged properly."  Qui opened the back door to the kitchen.  "Anyway, after we fix that hoist in the barn, we won't have to carry the heavy stuff up and down stairs."

"I still think –"  Ben stopped short at the sight of the guests sitting at the table with Jane.  He took a swipe at the sweat and dirt on his face.  "Hello.  I didn't know you were here."

"Just came by to drop off some things and to snarfle some fresh veggies from the garden," said Linda Grant.  She gave Qui a frank up-and-down.  "You going to introduce us to that lovely hunk of man?"

Ben flushed but Qui just seemed bemused as he looked at the two women.

"Uh, yes, ma'am.  This is my friend Quilan Finn," he waved in Qui's general direction.  "Qui, this is Elizabeth McCormack and Linda Grant."

"Liz, please," she said as Qui shook her hand.  "And don't mind Linda, she burned out the discretion filter in her brain a long time ago."

Linda laughed as she stood to give Qui a big hug.  "If he doesn't know he's hot by now, honey, then I'm doing him a favor by enlightening him."

Qui smiled as he looked back at Ben.  Jane was not doing a very good job of holding her own laughter.

"Liz and Linda are friends of Jane's," Ben said.  "They're, um..."  He stopped, not sure how much he should say.

Linda took Qui's arm and leaned in.  "The poor boy is trying to figure out if he's allowed to tell you that we are flaming lezzies."  She winked.  "Don't worry, it's okay.  Liz and I have been lovers a hell of a lot longer than I like to think about."

It was Qui's turn to laugh as he hugged Linda again.  "I appreciate your confiding in me."  He jumped a little as Linda copped a very generous feel of his rear.

"Hey," Ben protested, "that's mine."

"Just because you're not buying doesn't mean you can't admire the merchandise," said Linda loftily, spoiling the effect by the little grin she couldn't hide.

"Ben does get a bit jealous," said Qui, although the smile was a little wary.

Liz raised an eyebrow as she looked at Jane, who nodded.

"We are the fossils Jane used to convince Ben that she didn't mind people of different 'persuasions' when he was moping in the throes of unrequited love," Liz said quietly.  "We have not and will not tell anyone else that the two of you have decided to get together.  The decision on if and when to come out is absolutely yours to make, and we respect that."

"Ah, thank you for the clarification."  Qui took Ben's hand.  "I'm still new to this experience and wasn't quite sure what was going on."

"Don't worry about us," Liz said dryly, "if you have any questions, I'm sure Linda will be happy to expound at great and wearying length."

"It's a good thing I love you, dear," Linda pouted before leaning down to kiss Liz's cheek.

Jane insisted everyone stay for lunch.  Qui exerted his considerable skills in charming all three women, and Linda demonstrated that she actually could keep things lively and funny without getting too personal.  Ben was left alone with the female trio shortly after they finished eating as Qui had to leave for a promised visit to talk to a group of scouts at the Wildlife Conservation Center.

Ben wasn't sure he liked the gleam in Linda's eye as she took a sip of coffee.

"So, Ben, give us the juicy details.  Your new man is absolutely delicious, but have you got him into bed yet and who's the top?"

His face felt like an open furnace as Ben's fears were realized.  His mouth opened but nothing came out.

"Linda, that's none of our business."

"Hey, I'm just saying what we're all thinking," Linda retorted.  "It's obvious both of those lovely studs are tops in a major way, sugar."

Liz sighed and shook her head ruefully.  "Ben, you don't have to answer any of that."

"Yes, that's right," Jane added, pursing her lips.

"No, it's... " Ben cleared his throat.  "It's alright.  We haven't actually... gone all the way yet."

"That is so sweet, Ben.  I didn't think anyone actually still said that these days," Linda said.  "You are planning to do it, right?"

Liz shot an acid glance at Linda, who just raised an eyebrow.

"Well, the topic has come up..." Ben mumbled as he slid lower in his chair.  While he appreciated the openness of their support, he didn't feel comfortable discussing an issue he hadn't even resolved with Qui yet.  "But we haven't made a final decision yet about... things."

"Ben?"

He looked up at the concerned tone of Liz's voice.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"You have at least discussed this with Qui, haven't you?  He seems like a good man, and I certainly got the impression he cares for you a great deal, but that's too important an issue to just leave up in the air if you are both serious about a long-term relationship."

"We have talked about it," Ben said slowly.  "We do understand that it's important."  He sighed.  "Linda is right; we're both basically tops.  We've talked about sharing, taking turns... it's the getting started part we haven't quite figured out yet."

"All levity aside, Ben, if you need help or just want someone to talk to about it, we're here," said Linda.  "I've seen too many friendships torn apart because they couldn't come to terms with the physical part of the relationship, and I'd hate to see that happen to you and Qui."

Liz nodded.  "Or if you'd rather talk to a man, we know several gay couples in the area.  It might help to talk to someone who has been in your position... so to speak."

"Thanks."  Ben nodded slowly.  "I'll talk to Qui again, but I'll keep your offer in mind."

Ben sat at the table thinking long after all three women left to pick a basket of vegetables in the garden.

***

The door latch quietly clicked as Qui came in through their private door.

"Sorry about heading out so abruptly; I wasn't meaning to leave you with all the work."  Qui shrugged and smiled apologetically.  "I was stuck inside all day doing paperwork and just had to get out in the fresh air for a little walk."

"It's alright."  Ben leaned back in the padded armchair they had kept, one leg draped over an arm of the chair.  "I was just sitting and thinking."  He contemplated the sight before him:  long legs in loose jeans, brown leather jacket open over a tank top, a few sprinkles of gray in the chocolate hair growing out of its last cut, corners of the mouth barely lifted, blue eyes in a quizzical crinkle.  Ben tilted his head with a whimsical half smile.

"Good thoughts, I take it?"  Qui quirked an eyebrow.

"Mmmhhmm."  Ben let his eyes rest on the hands tucked into the waistband of the jeans.  "You were wearing that jacket the first time I ever saw you.  It was at UPA.  You were leaning on the counter when I came in, your hands folded together, and I knew you were everything I had dreamed of."  He shook his head.  "That first time we shook hands, it was like an electric shock running through me."  Ben snorted.  "I could have come in my pants if you hadn't finally let go."

"I remember."  Qui nodded slowly.  "Even that first time I felt something - a tingle that I didn't understand."  He smiled as he shrugged out of his jacket and set it aside.  "Took me a while to figure it out, but luckily for me you're a persistent young man."

Ben stood up, a sudden decision pushing him to stand in front of Qui.  "We need to talk."

"Alright.  What do we need to be talking about?"

"We have an unfinished conversation that I've been thinking about."  He glanced around, then took Qui's hand.  "Let's sit over here."  He led the way to the rug spread before the fireplace and sat down.

Qui gracefully folded himself into a cross-legged position.  "So now what?"

Ben held Qui's hand, running his thumb along the palm.  "This business of tops and bottoms... I don't want to think of us in those kinds of terms."

"I thought you were the sex-starved motorcycle mechanic desperate to get into my pants."  Qui smiled.

"Well, that too, but I'm trying to be serious here."

"Sorry."  Qui kissed Ben's fingers.  "Is it the words or the actions you don't like?'

"The typical concepts behind those words are what I want to get away from."  Ben chewed on the corner of his lower lip as he tried to find the right terms.  "Most people think of a top as the aggressive, dominating person and a bottom has a connotation of being weaker, subservient in some way."  He shook his head.  "That's not always the case, of course, but I want to think of us as equals."  Ben looked at Qui.  "Partners who love each other and are willing to explore their sexuality and try different things together."

"I like that."  Qui slowly nodded.  "Partners... each his own person but with something together that is greater than either."  A corner of his mouth quirked upward.  "A rather romantic thought, really.  I think that's part of why I love you."

"It's your fault," Ben shrugged one shoulder.  "Some of you has been rubbing off on me, or at least I hope that's what's happening."

"Partners in the dance?"  Qui smiled, a full-fledged genuine joy.  "Taking turns deciding whether it's a waltz or a tango and taking turns leading?"

"Something like that."  Ben's answering smile reflected his agreement.

"That will be good, very good."  Qui's expression became thoughtful.  "Somebody still has to take the first step, though."

"I've been thinking about that, too."  Ben was very still as he looked down at their joined hands.

"I'm willing to try it either way you want," said Qui softly.

"I want..."  Ben slowly raised his head.  "I want you inside me for our first time."

"Are you certain?  I don't want to do anything to hurt you."

Ben took a deep breath, let it out gradually.  "I think that one of the main reasons I had always insisted on topping was that I never found anyone I felt I could truly trust... someone I was comfortable enough with that I wouldn't feel vulnerable."  Ben paused, twined his fingers with Qui's.  "I trust you, and I want to feel what it's like to be joined with you... to take you into myself both physically and emotionally."  He blushed a little.  "Sorry, that's starting to get awfully mushy and fuzzy."

"Not at all; it's a beautiful sentiment."  Qui carefully laid Ben down on the floor and stretched out beside him.  "I would be honored to join with you, my love," he whispered as he held Ben close.

***

Ben yawned and stretched, then glanced at the clock.  Frank and Mattie were opening the shop today, giving him an extra two hours to sleep in if he wished.  His body had other ideas however, so he leaned over to flick on the tape player, lying back as the lilting tones of Quilan Finn filled the room.  He poured a handful of lube from the bottle on the nightstand and began a leisurely appeasement of his morning tension.

A vague bump and thump did not catch Ben's attention, but the loud knock on his door made him blink and curse softly to himself.

"Ben?  Are you up?"

"Yeah, what is it?"  Ben sat up and hurriedly grabbed a sheet to cover himself.  "You can come in."

"I dropped off a box on my way to work and wanted to ask –"

Qui stopped in the open door.

"Sorry, Jane said you were usually up by this time of the morning.  I'll talk to you later."

"No, it's alright.  What did you need?" insisted Ben.

Instead of answering, Qui tilted his head and listened a moment, brow furrowed.  "That's the recording I did of Joyce's Ulysses.  I remember making that one; it was a long bastard and needed several sessions."  He looked back and took in Ben's flushed face, the sheet clutched in one hand over his updrawn spread knees, the arm that disappeared under the sheet.  "Wait a minute, do you still –"  He shook his head.  "No, no, strike that question.  I don't want to know.  I don't even want to be thinking of that in conjunction with some of the things I've recorded."  Qui rubbed his face and sighed dramatically.  "Jaysus, what kind of a sex fiend have I got myself hooked up with?"

"Hey, novels, short stories, poetry, PSAs, whatever - the words don't necessarily matter."  Ben covered up his embarrassment, getting into Qui's humor by licking his lips and leering.  "You turn me on so much I could come just listening to you reading the phone book."

"I can see we won't be inviting you to any public readings if you're that horny."

Ben laughed.  "Probably a good idea.  If a recording gets me all hot and bothered, the real thing would no doubt cause spontaneous combustion."  He grinned wickedly.  "Or a very wet pair of shorts."

"I'm beginning to suspect I should be laying in an extra supply of Vitamin E."  Qui had a saucy grin in turn.  "Or maybe just buying more books."

The sheet slipped as Ben laughed even harder.  "I am looking forward to expanding your horizons.  In more ways than one."

Qui had to drag his gaze upward from the enticing dark hairs peeking out from under the edge of the sheet.  "Right."  He cleared his throat.  "I'd better be getting on to work while I still can."  He flashed a lopsided grin.  "Enjoy your morning."  He closed the door behind him as he quickly fled.

Ben leaned back into his stack of pillows and slowly resumed his self-ministration.  Yes, he mused, definitely looking forward to expanding one horizon in particular.

***

"Sidai!" came the sharp rebuke.

"Yes, Sifu?"  Ben straightened and stared straight ahead.

"You are not focusing.  There is no value to the exercise if you are just going through the motions."

"Yes, Sifu."  Ben bowed his head and sighed.  "I'm sorry... it's difficult with everything that is happening."

"All the more reason to concentrate, Sidai, to center and let the external world drop away so you can re-energize body and mind.  Give me fifty pushups and we will start again."

"Yes, Sifu."

***

"This floor plan should work," Qui said as he peered at the sheet of paper, then glanced up.  "We can always make adjustments later, of course."

"It's a good start."  Ben looked around the basement, envisioning how the furniture would look once the move was complete.  The area rugs had been laid out; armchair, storage chest and floor lamps were in place; the weight machine and exercise mats occupied the far corner; and the boxes of towels, bedding, sheets, pillows and outdoor gear they had claimed marked the spots where the sofa, desk, table and chairs were to go.  Another eight boxes of CDs, records, tapes and books that Qui had already brought over were positioned by the area designated for the bookcases.  "What time do you want to start on Sunday?"

"I'd like the two of us to start at eight, if that's alright.  Jane mentioned that she could bring her truck over around nine, and a few of her friends offered to help pack and clean up after they get out of church.  We took care of the entire workroom earlier, so I was thinking we should be able to get everything that's left moved over on Sunday, get a good night's sleep, then finish unpacking Monday morning.  Jane also told me she wants to fix dinner for your birthday Monday evening."

"That sounds fine.  And I already asked Jane to just have the four of us for dinner."  Ben smiled diffidently.  "I'm not sure I'd be able to pay any attention to any other guests."

"I know how you feel."  Qui turned to Ben and kissed him.  "Just a few more days now."

"What about Sunday night?"

"The property manager is coming out Monday morning for a final inspection, to collect the keys and give me the check for the security deposit and September's rent that I had already paid."  Qui hesitated.  "I thought it would be easier to stay and meet him there, so I want to leave my sleeping bag and spend one last night alone at the house.  Nothing against you, of course, it's just –"

Ben put a finger against Qui's lips.  "Don't worry about it.  I understand and I don't mind at all."  He smiled softly.  "Makes it all that much sweeter looking forward to Monday night."

Qui pulled Ben in for a big hug of unspoken thanks.  They melted into the warm embrace, content to hold each other in silent comfort.

****************  ***************

Before leaving for his last day at Qui's place, Ben put a sweatshirt on under his jacket to ward off the chill of the gray October morning.  It wasn't cold enough yet to require the jacket's thermal liner, but at the rate things were going it felt like it wouldn't be long.  He parked well off to the side so Myrna was out of the way.

"Morning," said Qui as he answered the door.  "Come in.  I've got some tea brewing if you'd like a cup before we start packing things."

"Sounds good.  Thanks."

Ben sat at the kitchen table for a few minutes sipping the hot drink, while Qui pulled out the few staples still remaining on his shelves and tossed them in the boxes with his odds and ends of cutlery, dishes and cooking items.  Except for one water bottle, items from the refrigerator went into a large cooler they had borrowed from Jane.  They then carried the boxes, the cooler, the chairs and the table outside.

In the small bedroom they quickly stripped the bed, packed linens, bedding and clothes into boxes, then carried out the boxes before moving the heavy wardrobe to join the table.

"Jesus, you obviously don't believe in lightweight furniture, do you?" groused Ben.

"I suppose I am rather partial to nice solid wood," grinned Qui.

Ben grimaced at the potential pun, but decided to let it pass.  "I know you said the kitchen appliances stay, but is there a washer we need to get?"

"No, clothes were always sort of catch as catch can at the laundromat or a friend's house.  That's yet another advantage to moving in at Jane's."

"That should save you some time we can put to better use."  Ben raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"Good point.  I'll be able to add in some more Tai Chi workouts," replied Qui, waggling an eyebrow of his own.

"Hmmph," Ben grunted.  "What's next?"

"The living room."

Ben started on the desk while Qui began carefully wrapping the items in the display case.  He pulled open a large drawer to transfer the contents into a box, digging into the interior to pull out folders full of papers.

"Hey, is this a medal?"

"Yes.  There's probably a couple of those in there somewhere," said Qui absently as he kept working.

"There's a ton of performance awards, certificates and letters of appreciation mixed in here with a bunch of loose forms and stuff.  Do you want any of this separated or wrapped?"

"Throw it all in a box and I'll sort it later to pull out my financial and personnel records."  Qui glanced up.  "Why are you looking at me like that?  It's just paper."

Ben shook his head.  "This represents a lot of good things in your life that you've been recognized for.  How can you just toss it in a drawer and hide it?"

"Those represent what somebody else thought about the value of things I've done."  Qui tapped his head and his chest.  "I know in here what I've done and what I feel the worth of my life has been, what I've contributed to trying to make this a better world.  That's all that's really important."

"Did they at least give you money with any of these?"

Qui laughed and came over to stand in front of Ben.  "We obviously need to work on this fixation you still have with filthy lucre."  He took the drawer and unceremoniously upended everything into the waiting box.

"I'd be happy to settle for clean lucre.  It keeps a roof over my head and buys gas for Myrna," Ben quipped back.

Qui started to roll his eyes, but a knock on the front door interrupted them.  Ben trailed along as they went out to the front porch.

"Sorry we're late.  The sermon was a little long today," said Jane as Rafa peeked out from behind her.  "Brought a few friends along so things will go quicker.  There's a crew to help move stuff at both ends and a crew for cleaning up."

Ben smiled to himself as he looked out.  There were three pickup trucks besides Jane's, Liz and Linda had three people in their station wagon, and a minivan was just pulling up with several more people.

"A few friends?"  Qui looked a bit awed.  "We'll be finished in no time with this crowd."  He scratched the back of his head.  "That's if we can even fit all of them in this poor little house."  He stepped forward to hug Jane.

People began milling about in front of the house, joined by the group from the minivan.  A large burly bear of a man in jeans and a black t-shirt proclaiming "Have You Hugged God Today?" came up to the porch.  A lock of black hair flopped into his eyes, matching the black pelt on his arms and peeking from the neck of his shirt.

"Good morning, good morning," he boomed.  "How are we doing today?"

"This is Reverend Charles Jenkins," said Jane.  "This is Quilan Finn and Ben Kennan."

"We're doing well," said Qui as he shook hands.  "Thanks for coming out."  He hesitated a moment.  "I appreciate the help, but we're not members of your church."

"Not to worry.  You are friends of Jane and Rafa, so you are part of our community.  And you can call me Charley or Rev if you want."  He had a broad smile as he gave both men a once-over.  "We have a very large number of adjunct members, so to speak.  And after all, you came out to help build the corral for Rafa, yes?"

"True enough."  Qui nodded.  "Thanks again."

"Ben, how are you?  It's good to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too, sir.  I've heard quite a bit about you and the good things your church does for people."

"We try," he said with a self-deprecating smile.  "I'm mostly just a sort of facilitator.  It's really about people helping other people.  Speaking of which, we should get going, since we need to finish moving you and also get the house cleaned so they give you your full security deposit back.  What's on the agenda for today?"

"Ben and I already cleared out the back rooms and the kitchen, so anything still in those rooms stays and they can be cleaned.  We need to pack out the living room and then load everything to go over to Jane's house."

"Excellent."  Charley called out, "Liz, can you get the cleaning crew set up?  The kitchen and back rooms are ready."

"Can do easy."  Liz threw off a jaunty salute with her cane and started pairing people up with brooms, mops, buckets and other cleaning supplies.

"Remarkable woman," said Charley fondly.  "I think she could organize the Last Coming with one hand tied behind her back."  He shook his head, then turned to Jane.  "Jane, dear, could you take a look at what needs to be loaded and start assigning things to each truck?"

"I'll get right on it."  Jane waited a moment for approval from Qui, then went indoors.

"Could I speak to both of you a moment before we start?"

"Of course, sir."  Qui nodded to Ben and the three men moved off into the clearing.

"First, I just want to make it absolutely clear that you have no obligation to the church.  You are welcome to drop by if you should ever wish to, and we have a lot activities open to everyone, but it is entirely up to you.  I've seen your name in the paper, Quilan, and Jane has told me a little about both of you, so I know you contribute to the greater community in your own ways, and the good Lord appreciates it all."

"Understood," Qui said as both he and Ben nodded.  Qui continued, "You have a lot of wonderful people in your church, and I'm glad to know you."

"Second, nobody has said anything to me, but I've been out as a gay man a long time and I've got damned good gaydar.  I've also seen your new living arrangements when we picked up everything Jane was donating to our loan closet."  He held up a hand.  "I'm not asking any questions, but I would like to give you a word of advice.  Everybody that knows Jane also knows that for years she's had three rooms to let.  Now that she has three renters again, if anybody asks about where you're living, just tell them you're boarding with Jane Brandon and let them draw their own conclusions.  Unfortunately, there are still some potentially significant repercussions if and when you ever decide to tell anyone elsewise, so be damned sure that you both agree before you make that kind of a decision."  He smiled to lighten the mood.  "Just a hypothetical word of advice, of course.  And just as an aside, I hand-picked the folks who will be moving your stuff in at Jane's, and they all have reasons of their own to be very discreet."

Ben and Qui looked at each other, then back at Charley.  Ben took a shaky breath as he surreptitiously moved a bit closer to Qui.

"Hey, Ben.  Don't worry about things.  I'm just a nosy old fart who's too used to sticking his foot in doors and passing out alleged words of wisdom."  The beaming smile was in full force as he slapped Ben on the shoulder.

"Yes, sir.  Thanks for the help," Ben smiled back, "and the hypothetical advice."

"Time to get to work and get you out of here most scosh."

*****   *****

With so many helpers, the work flew by.  Liz and Jane were clearly seasoned veterans of this game, and Charley floated around lending a hand or encouraging word where needed and keeping things cheerful.  Within a few hours, everything had been moved and the little house was spic and span.  Linda went out for a stack of pizzas and drinks that Qui insisted on paying for, and they had a festive lunch sitting on the floors or counters.  After trash was bagged and the last helper sent off with words of gratitude, Qui and Ben stood alone in the empty living room.

Ben watched as Qui made a slow circuit of the room, then sat on the window sill looking out pensively.

"You doing alright?" Ben asked quietly as he went to stand next to his ranger.

"Still seems strange to be leaving this place, even though I know I'm only going a few miles away."

"Transitions can be difficult," offered Ben.

"I've no reason to be sitting around feeling sorry for myself," said Qui with a snort of self-disgust.  He pulled Ben close with one arm.  "I've just gotten too set in my ways and the change will be good for me."  He kissed Ben's nose.  "I'm going to a better place, especially with you there."

Ben smiled briefly, but his expression quickly turned serious.  "What did you think of Reverend Jenkins?"

"Seems like quite a character, but a very good man.  I noticed how much everyone seemed to like and respect him."

"Mmmhhmhm."  Ben stood looking down at the floor.

"Are you still thinking about his 'words of advice', Ben?"  Qui rose from the window sill to face Ben.

"He had a good point."  Anxiety roughened Ben's voice.  "You know I'm not ready to come out publicly to the whole town, at least not for a while."

"I understand that, and I respect that decision.  I doubt it will be something I'll be wanting to do myself anytime soon, especially while I'm still getting used to our new relationship."

"Qui, I trust you, but like you said, you are new to this, and I know you prefer to be up front with people."  Ben took both of Qui's hands in his.  "Right now, you're going to be in a position where people will be curious because you're moving... it's just human nature to ask questions."  He looked into Qui's eyes.  "All I'm asking is that you be careful, please."

"I will."  Qui bent his head to brush Ben's lips.  "I'm not in the office that much, and most people already know I tend not to talk about personal matters anyway, including friends like Joan Spangler and Sandy Miller.  They've always respected my privacy, and I don't expect that to change."

"Thanks."  Ben melted into Qui's arms.

"I finally managed to pry some extra leave out of my boss yesterday by agreeing to cover the next two weekends," said Qui as he slowly kneaded Ben's shoulders.  "I don't have to go back to work until Saturday."

"That's good.  We'll have Monday to Thursday together."  Ben rubbed his head against Qui's chest.  "I probably could have asked for more leave since they are trying out a new part-timer to help with the coverage, but I don't have much vacation time built up yet and I wanted to save a couple of days for the holidays."

"That's fine.  There'll be plenty of time to be together later."  Qui moved his hands down, rubbing Ben's lower back.  "I'd like to take one day and show you a few of my favorite spots in the Keo while the weather is still relatively decent."

"Tell you what.  I'll go with you to the Keo if you let me take you for a ride on Myrna."

"Sounds like a fair deal."  Qui laughed.  "I was wondering whether I'd have to pry you out of bed to get you to do anything."

Ben raised his head with a wicked grin, "That's what the first two days are for."

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§  Chapter Twenty-Seven  §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Wakefulness came early even with no alarm to heed.  Ben yawned, stretched and rubbed his face before contemplating the empty spot next to him that would soon be filled by his beloved ranger.  He smiled and hummed to himself as he threw off the covers and jumped out of bed.

After his workout and a quick breakfast, Ben stood in the basement at the foot of the stairs admiring the new furnishings.  The sofa, rocking chair, side tables and armchair made a cozy section facing the corner fireplace and there was a space behind the rocking and arm chairs where the empty bookcases along the wall waited to be filled.  Near the middle of the far wall, Qui's desk was set up with his display case next to it beside which the small used refrigerator they had found had a large bowl of apples sitting on top of it and was already stocked with water and juice.  The table and chairs occupied the middle of the room, while the weights and exercise mats remained in the far corner near the exterior door with its windowed top half.  To his left, past the doors to the bathroom and bedroom, sat the large wardrobe and storage chest which they had finally decided to leave outside the bedroom so Qui would be able to dress there without disturbing Ben when his schedule was particularly erratic.  They had ended up putting one laundry basket in the bedroom and another next to the wardrobe.  The small, heavy gun safe for Qui's pistol was out of sight, tucked into the bottom corner inside the wardrobe next to the set of built-in shelves and drawers that lined the side.

Ben nodded as he looked around, well pleased with what he saw.  He glanced at his watch and realized that he had at least a few hours before he could expect Qui back since the property manager had made the checkout appointment for ten.  He looked around once more, smiled, then headed for the bedroom.

Nervous energy fueled Ben's spurt of work.  He stripped the bed and gathered every piece of dirty laundry he could find into a bundle which he hauled upstairs to start in the washing machine.  He came back and made the bed with Qui's flannel sheets, glad that Qui had owned queen-size sheets even though he'd had only a double bed.  He allowed himself a few moments to stroke the soft blue fabric before adding one of Qui's dark blue blankets and a green comforter that Jane had supplied when Ben had first arrived.  He tidied away any loose clothing and other items, frowning as he fingered the perilously thin leather of his engineer boots before setting them inside the closet next to the tall hunting boots and galoshes which Jane had passed on from her husband's old belongings.  He smiled to himself as he lined up the bottles of lube and small stack of hand towels in the drawer of the nightstand which resided under the one window.  Moving on to the bathroom, he re-cleaned every surface, crevice and crack before setting out fresh soap, two sets of towels and even a new roll of toilet paper.  A quick trip upstairs to move wet clothes to the dryer, then he came back down to sweep the clean floor, lay in wood and kindling ready for an evening fire and set out candles on the mantel.  He had already sent a lengthy email to Maureen the previous evening, so he decided against turning on his computer.  Aside from the box of Qui's personal papers, the only big unpacking task remaining was to re-load the bookcases, but he couldn't remember exactly what things were supposed to go where, so he reluctantly deferred that task.

Since it was still only nine-thirty, Ben wandered upstairs to check on the laundry.  Neither Jane nor Rafa was home, leaving Ben alone in the house.  He remembered Qui's promise to join him for a ride, but realized he only had one helmet.  He called Frank and asked if he could borrow a helmet; receiving an affirmative, he fired up Myrna and went for a ride.

When he got back at eleven after chatting a bit with Frank and stopping to put gas in his motorcycle, Ben found he was still alone.  There was a note from Rafa on the whiteboard they had put on the door of the refrigerator, explaining that she had taken Cel out for a ride.  Ben gathered the clean laundry from the dryer and put it away downstairs, but he was still restless.  Finally, he changed into his oldest clothes and went out to work off some of the tasks on his list for the garden.

Wiping sweat from his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, Ben sighed seeing the filth on the fabric and realized he had probably smeared it all over his face.  He straightened for a short rest, but when he turned, he found that he had an audience along the fence facing the barn.  Planting his spade in the dirt, he walked over and stood in front of them, legs apart, hands on hips.

"Alright, if you two have got any snide comments about my gardening skills, get it over with now," he rasped.

Qui looked up at Rafa, who was sitting atop Cel, leaning forward to rest a forearm on the horn of her saddle.

"Actually, Rafa was just telling me how much your technique has improved this summer," remarked Qui with a determinedly straight face.

"Indeed," Rafa added gravely, "you have become much more efficient in wielding your implements of destruction."

Cel whickered and bobbed her head several times as if agreeing.

"Very funny."  Ben scowled.  "Show's over, so you comedians can take your act somewhere else."

Qui stepped closer to the fence with a grin.  "If we didn't care, we wouldn't bother."  He sniffed several times and wrinkled his nose.  "Jaysus, what have you been rolling in, boyo?"

"Slipped and took a digger when I was turning the damned compost heap, so lay off."

"I do hope you're planning on taking a shower before you come to dinner."

Ben shot a rude gesture as he muttered very uncomplimentary things under his breath.

Rafa laughed as she sat up and gathered the reins.  "Speaking of cleaning, I need to get Cel's stall taken care of as well as the cages for those cats we've got boarding this week."  She waved as she began to turn away.  "See you later."

Qui spread his arms and leaned his head to the side.  "Peace?"  When a dark look was his only response, he moved up to the fence and put a hand through the woven wire.  "Love you," he said quietly.

That was the one thing Ben could not resist.  He sighed, wiped his hands on his shirt, and moved close enough to take Qui's hand.  "Sorry," he muttered.  "I shouldn't be so sensitive."

"You have come a long way since I first met you, you know," said Qui softly.  "In so many things."

"Maybe, but I feel like I've got such a very long journey still to go to figure out how to be a better person and straighten out some of the junk in my head."

"You know my answer to that, Ben."  Qui raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, fucking 'patience' and her sister 'perseverance'," Ben groaned.

Qui grinned.  "Actually, to change the subject a little, I have a couple of questions."

"Go ahead."

"I couldn't help but notice how clean everything was in the basement.  The walls and floors were glowing so much I was almost afraid to take a piss in your pristine bathroom.  Are you one of those neat freaks who's going to be following me around with a broom and an antiseptic wipe and sending me outside if I have to pass gas?"

"God, no!"  Ben laughed.  "You'd better remember what it looks like now because you'll probably never see the place that clean again.  I was feeling restless this morning... and, well, I just wanted things to be nice for your first day here."

"Thank the saints," Qui said fervently.  He continued with a sly grin.  "We'll have to see if we can find something more interesting to use up all that excess energy."

"I don't think you'll need to worry about that," replied Ben with a leer.

"Another question, then."  Qui still had a grin.  "I've realized that I have no idea if or what you might like to drink.  I picked up some red wine for dinner, but also decided to get a nice bottle of white wine and some beer for after dinner.  If you prefer, we can stick to something non-alcoholic."

"I've pretty much given up heavy drinking because I feel so awful the next morning after I get really rip-shit.  I do like an occasional beer or glass of wine rather than the hard stuff, so that will be nice; we can get the fire going in the fireplace and have the wine."

"Good."  Qui reached up to trace a smear of dirt on Ben's cheek.  "I'm going to go unpack those last boxes.  Oh, and Jane said she wanted to eat at six-thirty if that's alright with you."

"That will be fine."  Ben looked around.  "I need to finish up out here, which will probably take me another hour or two, so could you let her know?"

"Certainly.  See you later."

Ben watched until Qui had disappeared back into the house, lips quirked into a smile.  He shook his head, and turned back to his labors.

****************  ***************

Tossing the book he had been half-heartedly reading onto his desk, Ben stood and stretched.  He was feeling much calmer and almost mellow.  The hard work had helped a lot, and Qui had intercepted him to suggest a Tai Chi session outside before he washed up.  He'd initially had trouble centering, but Qui had patiently made him repeat the basic exercises until he was able to capture the proper focus.  It was always a joy when they went through the forms together, and today had been no exception.

Ben had decided to indulge in a long, hot bath instead of his usual shower, allowing himself to enjoy soaking while he looked at the new touches that Qui had brought by populating the room with little things like his toothbrush, razor, comb and shampoo.  He had been thoughtful as he thoroughly cleaned himself, paying very particular attention to his genitals and anus.  It was late afternoon by the time he emerged, and he had retreated to the bedroom while Qui took a shower.

Ben leaned against the doorway and watched as Qui sat at his desk sorting papers into stacks as he pulled them from the box.  Guitar music played softly from the small stereo which had been pushed to a corner of the desk.  His eyes wandered to the display case, thinking about the feel of the practice sword Qui had let him once handle.

"If you have a question, please feel free to ask."  Qui studied the form he held in front of him.

"How did you do that?"  Ben went to stand between Qui and the display case.

"Do what?"  Qui pulled his glasses off, laid them down on a stack of papers, and turned to face Ben.

"I know you didn't look, so how did you know I was there all the way across the room?"

"Situational awareness."  Qui tilted his head, a half-smile on his lips.

"What?"

"That's how I think of it."  Qui shrugged.  "Basically, I have learned to focus internally while remaining aware of what is happening around me.  I heard you when you walked to the doorway and I could hear you breathing so I knew you stopped there.  I've started to become particularly attuned to your specific presence so I knew when your focus shifted from me to somewhere else.  It is a very useful skill to have in my line of work."

"I guess it would be," Ben said doubtfully.  "Sounds a little bit creepy, though."

"It's mostly a matter of practice in learning to focus and to fully observe and interpret your environment."  He rubbed the edge of his chin thoughtfully.  "If you reach a point where you can properly center for an extended time, I could probably teach you how to do it if you're interested.  I suspect you already have a good focus when you're working on motorcycles; we would just need to train you to extend that to be able to keep that focus at the same time you keep track of your external stimuli."

Ben thought for a moment and realized he did get very intensely involved when he was doing maintenance, especially if there was a difficult or interesting problem to resolve.  "I never thought of it that way," he said slowly, "but I think you're right.  I'll have to consider it, I suppose."

"You do that."  Qui smiled.  "Anyway, did you have a question?"

"I was looking at the swords."  Ben hesitated a moment.  "I know you said you won't teach me any of the weapons until I'm further along, but could I at least see you doing the sword form?"

"A reasonable request," said Qui.  He thought for a moment.  "I'm a little out of practice, but it is something I would like to get back into.  I'll start working on that, and in January or February when things are quiet, I can take you to see a friend of mine who teaches the Tai Chi martial arts.  We can show you the 'two person pushing hands' forms I want to get you started on and also the staff and sword forms.  Would you like that?"

"Definitely!"  A great beaming smile burst forth as Ben pulled Qui up into a hug.  "Thank you."

A long moment later Qui disentangled himself from Ben's lips.  "You are welcome."

"That will be just so wicked pisser," Ben enthused.  "I'll really be looking forward to that."

"Don't forget you have to keep working on the basics."

"Of course.  That will make a great incentive, though."  Ben glanced at his watch as a rumble in his stomach reminded him he had skipped lunch.  "Dinner will be ready in a half hour.  Let's go up and see if there's anything we can do to help."

"Hold it."  Qui grabbed Ben's shirt before he could reach the open doorway.  "I am under strict orders not to let you leave until we are summoned for the special birthday feast.  Since I have no desire to lose my left testicle, you are staying put if I have to tie you up to do it."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ben scoffed.  "Jane doesn't say things like that."

"She doesn't need to say the words."  Qui cowered in mock terror.  "She is a very determined woman and when she gets that certain look in her eyes, it would set a grizzly bear running."  He straightened up with a smile and said dryly, "Actually, she threatened to make me eat my own cooking for a month, which is probably worse than losing a ball, now that I know what I would be missing."

That got a laugh from Ben and earned Qui another kiss.  To help pass the time until they could leave, Qui put the box of papers between them, showed Ben how he was sorting and had Ben start putting the obvious items into stacks on the table.  They worked in companionable silence, although Ben didn't make very fast progress due to his distraction with reading the various award letters and certificates.

A knock on the half-open door at the base of the stairs and a cleared throat announced Rafa's presence.  She led them upstairs and smiled as she escorted them past the kitchen where they normally ate to the formal dining room and ushered them in.

Ben gasped and stood speechless.  The antique mahogany dining table was covered with a lace tablecloth, china and sterling silver place settings, and silver candlesticks set with ivory candles.  The sideboard held brightly wrapped gifts and the tantalizing odors of the bountiful banquet in fine china and silver servers had his mouth watering.  He suddenly felt very under-dressed and inadequate; this was the kind of occasion for which his parents had made him wear a full suit and tie.

"This is... amazing," Ben said when he finally found his tongue.  "You shouldn't have gone to all this trouble."

"Tweren't all that much trouble," said Jane, clearly pleased with the effect of her efforts.  "Especially seeing as how it's kind of a double special occasion, what with Qui moving in."

"Thank you very much, Jane," said Qui as he discreetly pressed a hand into Ben's lower back.  "It looks magnificent."

"Yes, thank you very much indeed," Ben said as he started forward.  He smiled and shook his head.  "Absolutely wicked pisser."

"Why don't you boys sit down and we'll get things started," said Jane as she lit the candles and turned down the lights.

"Yes, ma'am" was the chorus from both men as they made their way to the table.

The meal proved to be as remarkable as the setting.  The fresh salad was accompanied by Jane's personal secret dressing, the home-made rolls were hot from the oven, vegetables were crisp and savory with the lightest touch of sauce, and the steaks and lobster tails were fork-tender with a heavenly flavor.  The red wine that Qui had supplied was the perfect complement.  Ben ate slowly, savoring the fantastic food and lively conversation, storing the event in his memory.

Afterward, he sat at the table sipping water while Jane and Rafa cleared the table for dessert.  They had insisted that neither he nor Qui was allowed to help, so the two waited until the high-domed covered plate and the silver coffee and tea pots arrived.

"This is a very old pattern.  Excellent quality, too," said Ben as he idly ran a finger around the rim of the saucer under his cup.  He had been to enough dinner parties while growing up to become familiar with a large variety of fine dinnerware.

"China and silver belonged to my grandmother and then my mother added to it.  We used to bring it out for Thanksgiving, Christmas and other special occasions," Jane remarked as she poured coffee.  A wistful smile flitted across her face as she continued, "Been a while since I've had reason or desire to even look at it."

A sudden impulse sent Ben to his feet to give Jane a hug.  "I appreciate this tremendously.  Thank you."

"Here now, you'll be spilling the coffee," Jane chided, but there was a blush in her cheeks.  "You're right welcome, son, but sit yourself down so we can get on with dessert."

"Yes, ma'am."  Ben smiled and gave her arm a small squeeze before returning to his chair.

"Alright, if I can have everyone's attention," Jane announced once all had been served with coffee or tea.  "First off tonight, we want to welcome Quilan Finn to our family.  I look forward to having you with us for a lot of good years and wish you and Ben all the happiness you are hoping for."

"It is an honor and privilege to be here."  Qui nodded graciously.  "My thanks to you, Jane, for making a place in your home for me when I had to leave my own.  To you, Rafa, for your kindness and friendship in accepting me."  He turned his head and lightly brushed Ben's hand.  "And, of course, my gratitude to you, Ben, for offering so much to me and for your exceptional persistence in getting me to accept what you offered."

There was a round of laughter, but Ben's throat was tight as he gazed into Qui's eyes and nodded.

"Now for our birthday boy."  Jane pulled the cover off to reveal a large chocolate layer cake.  She swiftly lit the 22 candles.  "Altogether, everybody."

Ben ducked his head, a light blush on his cheeks as he listened to the singing of 'Happy Birthday'.  When the song was over, he looked around the expectant faces.

"I don't know if I can add much to what Qui already said.  I am immensely grateful to you, ma'am, for taking me in and helping me out so much all these months.  I still may not always be able to tell the weeds from the vegetables, but I have definitely gotten better at digging them up."  He paused while Jane laughed.  "Rafa, I hope we become even better friends, and I'll be there whenever you need help with math."  Rafa returned his smile with one of her own.  "Quilan Finn, you are the greatest gift I could receive, and if you don't already know what my birthday wish is, then I haven't been nearly persistent enough."

A flush of warm gladness rolled through Ben as Qui laughed, an open-mouthed chuckle of joyful acceptance.  Ben winked as he bent to blow out the candles.  He heard a low whisper from Qui as Jane began cutting slices of cake while Rafa retrieved gifts.

"Truly a one-track mind, Mr. Kennan."

Ben let the tip of his tongue peek out the corner of his mouth as he grinned at his ranger, then resumed a relatively decorous mien as he looked at the first present.

"To Ben from Rafa."  He tore open the paper on the large box, opening it to pull out insulated bib overalls and a matching blue jacket.  A scarf, hat and gloves completed the outfit.

"It gets very cold here sometimes," Rafa explained.  She smiled as she continued, "I wouldn't want you to have an excuse for not shoveling snow when it's your turn."

Ben laughed and thanked her, resisting his instinctive urge to protest the expense of the gift in favor of accepting her generosity, glad to see how much more comfortable she seemed to be with him.

The next box was also large and was from Jane.  Ben lifted the long-sleeved sweater from the top for all to admire.

"You seem to like those black t-shirts so much I figured black would be something you'd enjoy," said Jane.

"It's great," said Ben as he pulled it over his head.  "Fits great too."  He looked in the box, pulling out a layer of paper to reveal gleaming new engineer boots, complete with heavy-duty patches across the front where the motorcycle clutch would hit them.  "Ohhhhh," he breathed as he ran a finger down the smooth black leather.  "They're beautiful."  He had to take off his sneakers and try them on, standing up to let his weight settle into them.  "They fit perfectly," he marveled.  "How did you manage that?"

"Well, I sort of know a man who does leather work, and we took the liberty of going into your room one day a while back when you were over at Qui's place to get the measurements.  The door was open, so I hope you don't mind."

"Mind?  How could I mind?  They're absolutely awesome."  He sped around the table to wrap Jane in a big hug.  "Thank you very much."  On his way back to his seat he paused to hug Rafa too for good measure.

"You need to open that little one exactly at seven-fifteen," said Jane.  "You'd best get on with it if we're going to be on time."

"Open it at exactly seven-fifteen?"  Ben turned the box over in his hands; it was from his sister, which meant there was no telling what it might be.  He shook it a little but nothing rattled, so he shrugged and waited until the second hand on his watch moved to the top before ripping off the paper.  As he began pulling the top off the box, the tune of Fur Elise started sounding.  Ben grinned as he plucked a cell phone from the crumple of red silk; that had been one of his favorite pieces when he had been learning the piano and he had played it endlessly to annoy his big sister.  He opened the sleek instrument and put it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Happy Birthday, little brother!  Hope you're having a good one."

"Hey, Maureen!  It's terrific to hear from you, and yes, it's an incredibly amazing birthday.  You can't believe how kind everybody has been.  We had the most sensational dinner that Jane fixed, even better than that place you used to drag us to for your birthdays. And I've gotten the most perfect gifts from everybody."

"I'm glad to hear that, Ben.  And don't you be getting any scruples about accepting the phone, you dufus.  I paid for it myself out of my summer intern job, the phone itself and a year's service contract.  The charger and stuff is in the bottom of the box."

"Thanks, Maureen, you're wonderful.  I don't know how to repay you."

"You do that by calling me on the damned thing.  I swear you are so dim sometimes, little bro."

Ben smiled at the familiar teasing.  "Thanks, I will.  Things going well with you?"

"School's great and I'm having a blast.  Everything else is pretty much the same, and we won't be going there."

"I'm glad grad school is what you were hoping for."  Ben gratefully heeded the other half of her comments.

"Look, I don't want to keep you since I know you've got people there.  We can talk some more later.  Before I go, though, I want to talk to that Quilan Finn you've been telling me about."

Ben handed the phone to Qui.  "She wants to talk to you."

"Me?"  Qui raised an eyebrow but took the phone.  The conversation on his end was short, consisting only of "Hello," "Yes, I do," "Understood," and "Yes, ma'am, I'll do that," before handing the phone back.  "I'll tell you about it later," Qui said as he blew out a heavy breath and shook his head.

"Maureen?  Ben again.  Thanks for the phone, and for being such a great sister.  Love you."

"Love you too, Ben.  You enjoy the rest of your birthday and we'll talk later.  'Bye."

There was still one gift left, so Ben put the phone back in the box to examine later in more detail.  He opened the flat container and extracted an oversized book.

"100 Years."  Ben eagerly opened the grey cover emblazoned with the Harley-Davidson logo, skimming through several sections, exclaiming over the stories and illustrations.  He looked up, a huge grin splitting his face.  "It's a history of Harley-Davidson since 1903 by the grandson of one of the original founders."

"I thought the pictures were nice," Qui shrugged.  "Maybe you can read it to Myrna and tell her about her forebears."

"It's brilliant, just totally brilliant."  Ben hugged Qui, then sat down to admire the book again.  "Thanks.  I love it."

They settled in to have cake and ice cream, admiring the various gifts while Ben continued to enthuse.  The candles flickered as they burned low and eventually the last bites of cake and last sips of coffee or tea were taken.

"'Twas was a magnificent meal, Jane," said Qui as he pushed his plate away.  "I don't think I could eat another thing."

"It's nice to do for your friends, especially for a special occasion like this."

"I'd like to thank all of you," said Ben with an expansive wave of both arms.  "I think this has been the best birthday ever.  I am immeasurably grateful for having such good friends."

After brief acknowledgements, Ben began to stack his cup and plate.  Rafa batted his hand away with a smile.  "Cleanup is part of the service tonight."  She gathered several dishes and headed for the kitchen.

Jane came over and stood between the two men.  "Happy Birthday, Ben.  Rafa and I will handle things up here, so I want you and Qui to take yourselves downstairs and enjoy the rest of your special day."  She leaned down and kissed each of them on a cheek.  "No need to be up any particular time in the morning, boys.  Good night."  She nodded, then took the remainder of the cake and followed Rafa into the kitchen.

Ben's mouth went dry as the realization of what was coming next hit him.  He looked at Qui and found a mirror of his own bashful little smile.

"I think we have just been kicked out of the room," said Qui.  He stood up and stretched but made no move to depart.

"Yeah, we'd just be in the way up here if we stayed."  Ben sat in his chair a moment longer as he put his new acquisitions back in their boxes, except for the sweater and boots he was still wearing.  He rose and picked up the containers, then took a deep breath and headed for the stairs.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
§  Chapter Twenty-Eight  §  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Ben was first into the basement.  He put his gifts on the table, made a quick visit to the bathroom, then went over to the fireplace.  He looked along the mantel for the box of matches he had put there earlier but couldn't find them.

"Qui, did you see the matches?"  Ben turned around to find that Qui was leaning against the door frame, slowly surveying the room from one end to the other.

"Qui?"

"Hmm?" was the absent-minded reply.

"Is there a problem?"

"Just doing a final reality check."  Qui shrugged.  "I've been thinking about this so much that it's hard to believe it's really happening."

Ben moved away from the fireplace and planted himself, legs apart.  He raised his arms, elbows bent, palms up, and very slowly jiggled his fingers.  He put on his best come-hither face, and in a low, sultry voice he rasped, "Come on over here, big boy, and I'll show you reality."

Qui straightened, a faintly amused twist to one corner of his mouth.

"Oh, yeah, I got something hot and sweet for you."  Ben ran his tongue along his lower lip.  "Bring it on, stud.  Show your boy what you've got for him."

By now, Ben definitely had Qui's attention.

"I remembered that you like foreplay, too."  Ben ran one hand gradually down his side as he put a fingertip to his lip, sucked lightly and let it slip out.  "I've got four bottles of lube for us to play with."  He waggled his eyebrows.

Qui laughed, a full gleaming smile as the ice broke and his normal confidence surged forth.  He reached behind him and closed the door.

The lock clicked loudly.

"You are going to need four bottles by the time I get done with you," he purred.

Ben grinned.  "That's the Qui I want to see."  He leered as he cocked a hip.  "You still want that fire? Or shall we get right down to business?"

"A job worth doing is worth doing right," said Qui as he came across the middle of the room.  "Remember the magic 'P' words?"

Ben groaned.  "I swear I'm going to get those words tattooed on me."  He brightened a little.  "Maybe I could get one on each ass cheek so you have to look at them."

Qui laughed again.  "Promises, promises.  At least that way you really would have a 'smart' arse.  I'll open the wine after I make a pit stop."  He paused by the desk and picked up something.  "You'll be needing these, I'm thinking."  He tossed a box of matches to Ben before bending to open the small refrigerator.

Ben took a moment to enjoy the view before Qui straightened again, then hummed to himself as he lit the waiting fire, followed by the candles along the mantel.  The warm light softened the air as he clicked off the lamps.

"Very nice," said Qui a few minutes later as he put two glasses of wine and the open bottle on the small side table at the end of the sofa.  "I know you like your new boots, but are you planning on leaving the great hulking things on?  I don't particularly fancy getting kicked in the shins with those."

"Oh, I don't know.  I do indeed like them a lot."  Ben grinned as Qui shook his head with a grimace, whereupon Ben relented and pulled them off, caressing the leather before carefully setting them with his other gifts.

"No bloody white socks either, please."  Qui was sitting on the sofa, legs stretched out in front of him.  He wiggled his bare toes.  "Reminds me too much of a bad porno movie."

"I am shocked!" Ben gasped as he clapped a hand to his chest in mock horror.  "My hero looks at those nasty filthy pictures?"  He swooned, a hand to his forehead.  "You are shattering my illusions!"

"I'm just your basic dirty old man," smirked Qui.  He dropped his voice into a cracked quaver, "Come here, little boy, I've got a treat for you."

Ben laughed as he toed his socks off, leaving them lying on the floor.  He retrieved his glass of wine and joined Qui on the sofa, settling in next to him as Qui draped an arm around his shoulders.

"Very nice wine," Ben remarked after he took a small taste.

"Just a little something I've always been fond of."

The crackling of the fire was the only sound for a while as they cuddled and sipped their wine.

"Mmmmm," Ben sighed as he snuggled a little closer.  He was feeling warm and relaxed.  "This has been a fantastic day."  A stray thought tickled his brain.  "Qui?"

"Hmmm?"

"What was it Maureen said to you on the phone?  You looked a bit taken aback when you finished."

"I don't think your sister is someone I would be wanting to cross."  A wry smile lit Qui's face.  "First she asked me if I really loved you, so I said yes.  And while Jane may not use bodily threats, Maureen told me in blunt and explicit detail how she was going to remove all of my genitals and where she was going to put them if I ever did anything to hurt you.  Then she told me that I had better take good care of you or she was going to hunt me down to the ends of the earth and make my life miserable."

"Jesus, I'm sorry about that."  The flush on Ben's face was no longer just from the wine as he tried to bury his head in Qui's side.  "Maureen has always been a very protective big sister, and sometimes she gets a little carried away."

"It's alright."  Qui said as he kissed the top of Ben's head.  "She cares for you a great deal, and I would certainly be the last one to be minding something like that."

"I am so glad I found you," Ben murmured.  He felt his empty glass plucked from his hand, then he was pulled into an embrace.

"It's been quite a journey this summer, finding you and finding out new things about myself," Qui said quietly as he held Ben close.  "Not always a smooth trip."  A little rumble that vibrated between them.  "I keep associating us with this little bit from Walt Whitman when I remember how it went, especially when I think of how you kept coming back to me:  "O You whom I often and silently come where you are that I may be with you,"

Qui rubbed his hands up and down Ben's back.

"As I walk by your side or sit near, or remain in the same room with you,"

Ben felt tingles down his spine as he shifted to straddle Qui's lap.

"Little you know the subtle electric fire that for your sake is playing within me."

A distinctly un-subtle fire blossomed as their lips met, a hungry flame that blazed brightly.  Ben felt the heat flooding through him as the kiss grew in intensity, mouths opening and tongues delving, an answering heat from the body beneath him escalating the temperature.  Hot, wet tongues slid and entwined, the taste of Qui mixed with the woody sweetness of wine as Ben explored, textures of slick warmth shifting to hard edges of teeth and back again.

"Ahhhhh," Ben breathed an appreciative sigh as he rested his head on Qui's shoulder.  "That's an even better vintage second-hand."

Ben smiled at the wordless murmur of agreement as Qui grazed along the base of his neck and nibbled on his ear.  He captured one of Qui's hands, kissing the palm and moving on to suck each finger.

They kissed and caressed for a few more minutes until Qui wrapped his arms around Ben's waist and slipped them both down to the thick rug in front of the fireplace.  They stretched out beside each other and began letting hands and mouths roam freely.  Kisses alternated between lips, necks, ears.  Fingers slipped under shirts and skin was gradually bared, providing new territory to explore.

Ben moaned as two large hands rubbed his sides and stomach while a hot mouth sucked his nipples into tender hardness, alternating between them.  He luxuriated in the attentions, letting his head loll back as his hands fondled Qui's head.  Electricity ebbed and flowed throughout his body as his cock gradually began filling.

Turning the tables, Ben urged Qui onto his back and kissed him before moving down to nibble at the junction of neck and shoulders, sucking on the pulsing vein in his neck, leaving tangible marks of his passion.  He ghosted his hands along Qui's ribs and flanks as he attacked the enticing nipples.  He nuzzled the armpits, the tangy musk filling his nostrils.  Broad strokes of his tongue painted Qui's abdomen as Ben memorized his flavor.

For a timeless stretch the two men leisurely indulged each other's whims, kissing, licking, suckling, caressing, skin sliding against skin.  Qui allowed Ben to move freely but he controlled the pace, keeping things simmering, building gradually to just below a boil.

Suddenly Qui pushed Ben flat on the rug and moved over him, belly to belly, chest to chest, pressing down.  He held Ben's arms above his head as he captured him with a fierce kiss, plunging his tongue in and ravaging Ben's mouth for a long, breathless siege.

"Sweet Jesus," Ben gasped when he was finally released.

Qui let go of Ben's arms and shifted to support his own weight on his forearms.  "So, you still think foreplay is a waste of time?"

"You've got the evidence that says I think it's a great idea."  Ben wiggled his hips just enough to nudge his erection against Qui's groin.

Qui pushed himself up to his feet.  He took a moment to put out the candles, then returned to stand beside Ben, staring down at him as his tongue slowly circled his lips.

Breathing heavily, Ben stared back.  The blood that raced in his veins had his heart pumping as if he had been on a long run and he had to collect himself enough to grasp the hand that reached to pull him up.  Still holding Ben's hand, Qui began walking slowly toward the bedroom.  At the entrance he lightly kissed Ben as he released his hand.  Ben stood with one forearm propped on the door frame, watching happily as Qui stripped the covers back on the bed.  Qui straightened, opened the nightstand drawer and picked up one of the bottles of lube, read the label with a raised eyebrow, then put it back down before turning to face Ben.  The two men looked at each other.  Qui briefly rubbed the red mark on the right side of his neck, then extended his arm.  Ben glanced at the open hand, his nostrils flaring as his heart picked up speed again.  Moving slowly in deference to the hard flesh straining his jeans, he reached to take Qui's hand.  He kept moving as Qui pulled him in for an embrace and another kiss.  Never breaking the kiss, Qui turned Ben and gathered him in, then carefully put him down on the bed.  Ben captured a large hand and slowly began sliding it down his chest, along his belly, pushing it to rest on the fabric-covered bulge at his groin.

"Why don't you open my present for you?" Ben whispered.

Faint noises escaped Qui's mouth as his eyes darkened.  His hand squeezed a little, his breath hitching.  Resting one knee on the bed, he opened the button on Ben's jeans.  Very slowly he slid the tab of the zipper downward.  He grasped the edge of the jeans and began pulling.

Ben watched Qui's face as he raised his hips to allow the denim to be removed.  A cool rush of air hit his groin as his erection popped free and he grinned as he saw the lump that went down Qui's throat at the sight.  He felt the drag as his jeans were quickly yanked off the rest of the way and tossed aside.  He sucked on his lower lip as the warmth of a callused palm slowly made its way up his leg, pausing halfway up his thigh.

"Don't stop there," Ben said as he fought to keep his hands still at his sides.  "It doesn't bite."  He watched, spell-bound, as Qui's hand resumed its progress.  His cock leaped and a moan escaped his lips when long fingers encircled the hard flesh.

"Lively little devil," Qui murmured, his voice low and husky as he stroked the iron silkiness from root to tip.

"You don't know the half of it."  Ben's hips jumped as a thumb caressed the tip of his organ, spreading the wetness already gathering.

"I've never touched another man's penis."  Qui looked up at Ben.

"So what do you think?" purred Ben.  "Do you like it?"

"Hmmm," Qui said thoughtfully.  Little throaty murmurs emerged as he trailed a finger along the underside of Ben's erection.  "I think I like it a lot."  He gently rubbed just under the crown, then tilted his head, mouth half open.  "Is that good for you?"

"Don't worry, you're doing fine."  Ben reached and patted Qui's cheek.  "The family jewels could do with a little polishing too, if you'd like to continue your education."

A snort and lopsided half-smile rewarded Ben's jest.  Qui's tongue peeked from the corner of his mouth as he resumed his exploration.

"Aaghgh," gasped Ben as his balls were rolled and fondled.  The hand on his cock teased his sensibilities, light brushes of fingertips contrasting with firm strokes and subtle squeezes.  Ben felt the pressure building, his organ growing ever harder.  He moaned as the intensity grew; when his balls tightened, he grabbed Qui's wrist.

"Wait!"  Ben rolled his head back, sucked in several deep breaths and blew hard.  "My turn," he spit out as he pushed himself up and shifted around to sit on the edge of the bed.  He seized a belt loop on Qui's jeans and pulled Qui to stand between his knees.  "My turn," he said, more quietly this time as he looked up at Qui, his fingers resting on the top button, a question in his eyes.

Qui put his hands on Ben's shoulders.  His face was flushed, his breathing hoarse.  "Yes," he whispered gruffly.  His eyes were shadowy swirls as they bored into Ben.  "Yes," he repeated.

Eyes locked on Qui's, Ben opened the metal buttons one by one.  He gripped jeans and underwear at Qui's hips, then drew them downwards, tugging briefly to get the garments past the engorged organ.  It was only when the clothes were dislodged far enough to fall from their own weight that Ben allowed himself to look down at what was now at his face level.

"Sweet mother of god!"

The very generous phallus almost touching Ben's nose was well past half mast.  It bobbed gently in the warm breath from Ben's half-open mouth.  Eyes wide, Ben's first thought was a sudden doubt about the wisdom of asking for that formidable instrument to be introduced into his untried and virgin orifice.  He sucked in a breath and let it out through pursed lips.

"Was that whistle supposed to be 'Oh, boy, look what I found' or 'Oh, my god, what was I thinking'?"

Ben looked up.  The tone had been jocular, but the expression said that Qui knew damned well what Ben had been thinking.  Certainty replaced doubt; this was right, this was what he wanted, this was the man he wanted to make love with for the rest of his life.  The corner of his mouth twitched, then turned up as a smile slowly spread across his face.

"It's wicked frickin' pisser!"

Any uncertainties that Qui might have had as to the meaning of that phrase were quickly erased as Ben reached up to grasp the middle of the enticing rod, holding it still as he leaned forward to slurp a wet tongue across the head.

"Ooahh, Jaysus!"

The shudder that rippled down Qui's body sent quivers straight to Ben's cock.  He returned the favor of Qui's earlier attentions to his own organ, caressing and teasing the velvet length, gently squeezing the balls, running a finger around the tip and dipping into the slit.  Ben felt his heart pounding, a trickle of fevered sweat sliding down his temple.  Between Qui's moans and the heavenly sensations in his hands, Ben's cock grew painfully hard and he felt himself rushing to climax.  With a gasp, he reached down to grasp the base of his own erection, leaning forward to rest his head against Qui's middle, his free arm around Qui's hip.

"Ah, fuck!"  Ben's breathing was harsh.  "I need..."

"What can I do for you?"  Qui wrapped a hand around the back of Ben's head, holding him steady as his own chest heaved.

"I need... to take the edge off."

Ben leaned back, swinging his legs up to lie flat along the edge of the bed.  He kept a hand between his legs, squeezing tightly until he felt the pressure subside.  He looked sideways to see Qui kneeling beside the bed.  He reached out to touch Qui's face.

"I wasn't kidding when I told you how horny I get even just thinking of you.  We'll both enjoy the rest of the night more if I get off now."  He ran a finger along Qui's lips.  "Would you like to fulfill one of my fantasies, love?"

"What wish can your genie grant for you?"  Qui captured Ben's hand and kissed the palm.

"I have dreamed about you touching me while you talked to me or read to me, just your hands and your voice."  Ben licked his lips.  "I'm so close it won't take much.  Would you do that for me?"

A slow nod and tender smile, then Qui bent his head to brush Ben's lips with his own.  "It would be my pleasure."  He lightly rubbed Ben's cheek with a thumb as he pondered for a moment.  Another smile, sensual and alluring, as Qui laid his other hand on Ben's arm.

"I have just the thing.  Relax, love, and listen."

Ben let his body go limp as fingertips ghosted up his arm, grateful for his lessons on centering.  He closed his eyes, focusing on sounds and sensations.

"This is for you, Ben Kennan, because this is what you have done to me, and Enthralled is how you make me feel."

Light pressure traced the planes of his face as Ben drew in a slow breath.

Teach me to sin--  
In love's forbidden ways,

Neck tickled... shoulders caressed...

For you can make all passion pure;  
The magic lure of your sweet eyes  
Each shape of sin makes virtue praise.

Heart racing as fingers teased nubs to hardness, tweaking, twisting...

Teach me to sin--  
Enslave me to your wanton charms,

Straining to hear over roaring blood as palms swept across bare skin, waves of hot, tingling craving in their wake...

Crush me in your velvet arms  
And make me, make me love you.

Hands fisting in sheets as fingertips delved into the warm crevice where belly met legs, slipping down inner thighs...

Make me fire your blood with new desire,  
And make me kiss you--lip and limb,

Whimpers of delirious fervor as straining cock was captured, caressed, a gentle thumb spreading moisture...

Till senses reel and pulses swim.

Riding the ragged edge of raw need as firm, deliberate strokes stoked the ravening ache...

Aye! even if you hate me,  
Teach me to sin.

Moaning... hips thrashing as steady pressure pumped the rigid length ever faster while fingers squeezed the tender orbs below...

A cry of ecstasy as joyous delirium erupted...

*****   *****

"Ahwwwahwwwwaa," a long subvocal croak.

Warm.

Ben blinked, turned his head.  Blue eyes only inches away stared into his.  Ben blinked again, realized that the warmth was the afterglow of a fantasy fulfilled.

"Did you know that your eyes turn the most incredible shade of blue-green when you come?" Qui asked softly, his voice full of wonder.

"I don't remember opening my eyes," said Ben.  His body's response to the hand resting just below his navel let him know that the fire was only temporarily banked and the cravings still lurked.

"Right before your climax..." Two fingers floated along the side of Ben's face, barely touching.  "So beautiful..."

Ben allowed himself to drift and enjoy his languor for a moment.  Finally he drew a deep breath and released it very slowly.

"Thank you, Qui," murmured Ben as he turned on his side.  "That was wonderful."  He found the hand that had moved down to his neck and brought it to his mouth.  He kissed each knuckle, then held the palm against his face.  "I want to make you feel wonderful too."

"You're doing a good job so far," leered Qui, "my incredibly sexy boy."  He held up a small rumpled towel.  "Not something I've usually had to worry about before with a partner, but I hope there is a lot more where that came from."

"Oh."  Ben gave a small abashed smile as he realized that Qui must have cleaned him up while he was still foggy from his orgasm.  "Thanks.  And yes, I think I can safely promise that there will be a copious quantity on tap whenever you would like to avail yourself of the supply."

Qui laughed as he rose from his kneeling position beside the bed to his full height.

"May I have this dance, Mr. Kennan?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"It would be my pleasure, Mr. Finn."  Ben flopped over on his back, hips tilted and one knee raised to display his assets.  "What wish of yours may I fulfill, sir?"

"Don't worry, you'll know when we get there."  Qui picked up two towels and one of the bottles of lube and tossed them onto the stack of pillows.  "Move your arse over, boyo."

The sensuous smile and smoldering eyes sent a shiver through Ben.  He scooted to the far side of the bed, leaned up on one elbow.  Another shiver went through him as he was transfixed by the intensity of Qui's stare.  He had often wished he could be the object of Qui's single-minded focus, but the reality proved to be even more consuming than he could have imagined.

Ben couldn't move as the mattress dipped under Qui's weight.  He watched, mesmerized, as Qui slowly stalked him on all fours.  He was already hardening again at the sight of the heavy phallus hanging from Qui's loins.  The first touch of Qui's hand on his ankle drew a gasp; the progress of the dry ghosting fingertips up the inside of his knee,  along his thigh and across his belly was accompanied by increasingly heavy breathing.  The sight of the tongue circling those wanton lips sent sparks flying.

Yielding willingly to the slight pressure from Qui's palm, Ben let himself be pushed flat, his arms held in those massive paws.  He swallowed hard as lips descended onto his and reveled in the steamy and very thorough assault on his mouth.  Ben gulped air as those lips moved on, kissing along his jaw, sucking on his ear.  Teeth nipped at his lobe before a tongue soothed the hurt, then dipped into his ear, sending a hot flash into Ben's gut.

Nibbles and deep kisses along Ben's neck made him moan as he envisioned the evidence Qui was leaving of his ardor.  His mouth worked soundlessly as sharp teeth and wet suction suddenly pulled first his left and then right nipple into an exquisite ache.  His chest arched, wanting more of that carnal tongue, a wordless plea Qui obligingly granted, teasing with the tip, flicking the sensitized nubs before sucking them in again.

Ben's cock was paying fervent attention as his bare skin was painted with broad, salaciously wet strokes.  He moaned as hands slid down his chest and agile fingers tweaked and twisted his now-tender nipples.  The tongue and lips that kissed and licked up and down his belly set his heart pounding and blood racing.  He was only vaguely aware when Qui's weight shifted and a knee landed beside each of his hips.

Any banked coals that were still miraculously quiescent burst into ravening flame when Ben felt the solid flesh that slid against his own straining organ.  His excited yelp was swallowed by the mouth that descended on his and took his breath away.  His hips futilely bucked under Qui's weight, greedily seeking more of that exquisite friction.  Ben felt the sweat popping out on his face and body, adding slickness to the heat as Qui moved against him.

A whimper of need came from the boneless mass that was Ben Kennan as his ranger finally sat up beside him after several minutes of thoroughly touching, kissing, and licking him all over.  His eyes widened as he watched Qui retrieve the bottle of lube.  He gulped when a hand gently urged him over onto his stomach.

"I'm running on instincts here, so you have to tell me if I hurt you or if you need to stop," Qui murmured.

Ben swallowed, then nodded.  "You're still doing fine," he whispered hoarsely.  Ben closed his eyes as a hand massaged his back, working its way slowly down toward the base of his spine.  He felt Qui's body lying alongside him, heard the soothing murmur in his ear, but quivered when a slick finger delved into his moist cleft.

"Have I told you how fucking sexy your arse is?" Qui growled into Ben's ear.

Ben's cock, trapped as it was between his stomach and the bed, still managed to jump at the voracious lust in Qui's voice.  "Flatterer."

"Makes me jealous of Myrna when I think of her getting that arse all to herself all this time."

The finger teasing his entrance almost made Ben choke on his laugh.  He tensed when a dribble of lube was followed by a light pressure.

"I need you to relax for me, Ben."  Qui nuzzled his lover's neck as he moved his hand to knead an ass cheek.

"I want this," Ben whispered.  "It's just..."

"I know."  Qui pulled Ben onto his side, spooned up close to him and wrapped an arm over Ben's shoulder to hold his chest.  "Breathe with me."

Ben closed his eyes and leaned back into the comforting warmth.  He was drawn into the rhythm of the anchor that was Qui's life force, matching the regular in and out of air.  His heart still hammered but with renewed desire instead of the sudden anxiety that had caused him to stiffen at the tentative first intrusion.  Qui's kisses along his ear and shoulder sent new sparks down his back, while Qui's hand moving down to stroke his cock shot lightning into his gut.  He reached behind him to find Qui's flank and held him close, letting the hard neediness at Qui's groin rub against his rear.

"Want you..." moaned Ben.  "Do it again."

Shifting back onto his stomach, Ben grabbed a pillow to hug as he felt more lube being spread into his crack.  When the first questing finger began probing, he deliberately pushed out, concentrating on welcoming the touch.  The first cautious penetration caused a grunt and brief tightening of the muscular ring, but Ben took a long, slow breath and the moment passed.  It was an odd sensation when two fingers moved inside him, stretching him.  Ben was still trying to analyze the messages his brain was receiving when a sudden exquisite shock rocked his whole body.

"Holy shit!" gasped Ben.  His eyes flew open.

"Remember that thing called a prostate?" was the wry chuckle from the vicinity of Ben's left ear.  "Didn't know it felt that good, did you?"

"Do THAT again!" Ben demanded.

Another chuckle tickled Ben's ear as he pushed back enthusiastically onto the fingers.  He wiggled his rear to encourage more of that fierce stimulation, so excited by the rousing titillation that he eagerly accepted it when a third finger joined in.  Heat flashed in waves over him and his cock pulsed under him.

"Heeey, don't stop," Ben whined when there was an abrupt emptiness in his nether region.

"My turn, remember?"  Qui flipped his lover onto his back.  He urged Ben's hips up and put a large pillow beneath them, then moved between Ben's legs.  He licked his lips as he stared down.  "Wanna see those gorgeous eyes when you come again for me, boy."

Ben stared back up, caught in the intense blue gaze, still breathless from the speed with which his lover had maneuvered him.  He sucked in a deep breath, then lifted his legs toward his chest with a cheeky grin.

"What are ya waiting for, old man?"

The ravenous growl that answered him sent a new shock straight to his cock.  The pressure of the blunt head against his opening launched a brief quiver through him, but Ben kept his eyes fixed on Qui's face and the moment passed.  More pressure, a slow, steady push against the heavy ring of muscle that caused Ben to bear down to ease the passage, then Ben experienced a sharp pain as the first few inches burst through the barrier.

"Oww!"  Ben swallowed.  "Fuck, you are big."

"Easy... just breathe."  Qui lifted Ben's legs over his shoulders and let him rest.  "Tell me when you're ready."

Ben took several deep breaths, then nodded.  "Go for it."

Another slow, steady push as the slick length moved deep into his passage made Ben giddy with the voluptuous fullness.  Even the earthy grunt when Qui's last shove brought his balls flush with Ben's ass added to his arousal.  He laid his head back and moaned his pleasure as he adjusted to the incredible completeness.

Awed elation sang through his nerves as Ben let the sensations wash over and through him.  The love and lust in the smoky gaze of his lover drew him in, an electric connection as the rest of the world ceased to exist.  Joined in body and emotions as he had never been with anyone else, Ben felt lifted, transported for a moment to a magic oneness.

The hoarse cry of "Need you" pulled Ben back to the intense physical intimacy of passion.  His back flexed as Qui bent forward to kiss him, fervent mingling of tongues mimicking the union of their bodies below.

"Want you... all of you," Ben groaned.  He shifted his bottom and tightened his sphincter, grinning at the heartfelt moan he drew from his lover.

An inarticulate growl of possession warned Ben they had reached the point of no return.  He willingly gave himself over completely as Qui drew his hips back, leaving just the head of his erection inside Ben's body, then swiftly pressed back in, raking over the sweet spot and causing Ben to gasp as a shock wave passed through him.

Ben was amply rewarded for his submission.  Time lost all meaning as he was sucked into the cadence of Qui's dance, long, slow, gentle thrusts that alternated with harder strokes that raked his passage.  There was only sensation; lingering taste of Qui in his mouth, sweat musk of Qui in his nose, grunts and harsh breathing of Qui overpowering the roaring of his own blood in his ears, powerful hands that roamed his sweat-slicked flesh leaving fire in their wake.

"Aaaaghgh!"  Ben bucked as he felt the head of Qui's organ sweep across his prostate again and again, gasoline on the blaze that was consuming him.  He felt a reciprocal increase in the urgency of Qui's ardor as bruising strength grasped his hips.

Clenching muscles would have been useless in slowing the hot steel juggernaut that impaled him, but Ben eagerly welcomed the fierce onslaught.  White-knuckled fists clutched sheets as he tried to meet the pistoning drive of Qui's rigid cock.  He cried out as his own straining organ was engulfed in slick fingers and pumped hard.

Pressure.

Glorious flames.

Sweat burning his eyes.

Cock painfully hard as it swelled to bursting.

Flesh slapping torrid flesh as hips jerked and balls swung.

Red haze as short, jabbing thrusts pounded into him and shoved his body around.

Ben shuddered when a husky voice ordered, "Open your eyes, love."  Ben forced himself to obey, looking up into glittering sapphire eyes, slitted with lust, bearing down on him.  "I want to watch you when you come."

Magic voice, beloved voice, sending Ben soaring over passion's peak.

Ecstasy.

Time hung suspended in a blinding white glory,

floating in a joyous rapture,

one with his lover in body and mind.

Ecstasy.

Ben drifted in cozy darkness.  Only the necessity to breathe forced him to make his befuddled mind address the question of why there was a hot, heavy weight pressing his chest down, his legs uncomfortably lifted.  The fullness in his rear passage as he tried to shift position brought instant enlightenment.

"Oooah," Ben breathed as he wrapped his arms around the recumbent form atop him, trying to savor the closeness and connection for as long as possible.

Blue eyes blinked muzzily as Qui lifted his head, a slow, languid smile spreading across his face.

A small whimper and sigh as Ben was forced to yield to reality, letting his lover slide off his sweat-and-semen-slicked flesh as Qui's deflated organ slipped from his body.

"Are you alright, Ben?"  A soft kiss followed the anxious query.

A serene harmony filled Ben's soul at the sound of his lover's voice.  "I don't think I have ever been better."  Ben lazily turned his head.  "That was absolutely fantastic."  A thought tried to form in his brain.  "Don't think I can move ever again, though."

A low snort of laughter.  "So much for youthful stamina."

Ben felt the mattress shift briefly, then a soft towel moved from his head to his limbs and torso, removing the residue of their adventure.

"You are so good to me," murmured Ben.  Warm tenderness filled the crevices left from the recent lust.

"You are a gift from heaven to me."  Qui tossed the used towels aside and leaned in for another gentle kiss.  "I didn't know what darkness I was living in until your light opened my eyes."

"Awwww," Ben summoned enough energy for a half grin.  "Are you getting all soft and mushy on me?"

"Give me a little time and it won't be soft and mushy you need to worry about, boyo."

"That's the Qui I want."  Ben turned on his side to face his new mate, traced a finger down his cheek.  "Love you."

Qui gathered Ben into his arms, then pulled up the flannel sheets to cover them.  "Love you."  He kissed Ben's forehead, then held him close.

They drifted into blissful sleep in each other's arms, peaceful smiles on their faces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
FINIS, for now

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  END PIECE   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Tai Chi Notes and poetry references:

There are many web sites, books, DVDs etc. for Tai Chi.  These are just a few that might be of interest.  
1.  A listing and explanation of the Yang Style 24 steps  http://www.harmonytaijiquan.com/traditional_24/traditional_24.html

2.  Info about differences between Yang, Chen and Wu styles and simplified drawings of the Yang 24  http://www.taichiacademy.com/formsandmovements.htm  and http://www.taichiacademy.com/yang.htm

3.  To see some examples of Tai Chi, go to YouTube.  
     -  Square form -  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mUrt4z5vnwU  
     -  Yang 24 step -  (no sound) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ffUEjWn4wdA  
     -  Yang 24 ( group with music )  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3guMmzk2ygI  
     -  Discussion of several movements and relation to martial arts http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4yY651q2gI

4.  There are also Yang 42 and 108 long forms on YouTube

5.  Tai Chi breathing  
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6nMne3erRgk  or  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFqrO5GkepM or  
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZRiHDrhJZY

6.  Weapons in Tai Chi.  
     - Yang Sword  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MxhAjv3YneM  or  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJ-sUFf2K9U  
     - Staff   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kAvFSeRu1ds  or http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xAFvE7uTd6k  
     - Examples of various types of weapons used in Tai Chi  (staff, sword, broadsword, etc.)  
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5RNgvtKF884  or   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gcHP2mpg7Zw

7.  Two person formal pushing hand exercise  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76GNTdi7NV0

8.  Two person free style training demo  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QEQrdRAE2UY

9.  http://www.glbtq.com/social-sciences/ireland.html, glbtq: An Encyclopedia of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Culture, Ireland, Linda Rapp, discussion of gay influences in Irish literature

10.   http://www.glbtq.com/literature/wilde_o,3.html, glbtq: An Encyclopedia of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Culture, Oscar Wilde (1854-1900), Claude J Summers, review and discussion of Oscar Wilde

11.   Conrad Bladey, 5 Minute Irish Stories,  http://web.ncf.ca/er719/blackbx.html

12.  Charles Kickham, St. John's Eve, from A Treasury of Irish Poetry in the English Tongue, Stopford A. Brooke and T. W. Rolleston, ed., 1900

13.  Walt Whitman, O You Whom I Often and Silently Come, Leaves of Grass (8 editions between 1855 and 1891)

14.  Alfred Bryan, Enthralled, from Pagan Love Lyrics, 1921  (also included in Poetica Erotica, A Collection of Rare and Curious Amatory Verse, (Volume 2) edited by T.R. Smith, 1921, for which a digitized version is available at  http://books.google.com/books?id=q30CAAAAYAAJ)

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 


End file.
